


Merry Christmas, Darling

by thedeadflag



Category: Glee
Genre: AU, Christmas Fluff, F/F, Friendship/Love, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-19
Updated: 2015-02-19
Packaged: 2018-03-13 19:21:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 80,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3393296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thedeadflag/pseuds/thedeadflag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Santana finds herself spending the holiday season stuck at the Berry household due to some less than ideal decision making by her parents. Needless to say, she’s not very pleased. Will Rachel spend two weeks dealing with a grumpy Santana, or will Santana end up embracing some of Rachel’s festive cheer? Mostly just holiday fluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Admittedly, this fic is mostly fluff. Like, 85% of it, probably, if I had to guess. And my renditions of Santana and Rachel are a bit looser, because I wrote this in early September 2013 after doing a slew of one-shots, and Mirrorball, and finishing YYZ, and my head was all over the place on which Santana was which, and which Rachel was which. It's the only reason why I was a bit nervous to post this originally, because while I feel they're mostly consistent, there are small little bits where I can't help but wonder if this fic's San/Rachel would think/do that, or if it's some other San/Rachel influencing them…there's a little more grey area, but still…I think it's a fun fic. Not to be taken too seriously, for sure

_Evening of Thursday, December 16th_

* * *

Another year, another inevitable disappointment. Like clockwork, autumn would slip into the unforgiving chill of winter, and with it so would Santana's home life vanish. Not that she wasn't totally used to her circumstances by now, because she'd learned to accept that her parents would leave and spend half of December away from her, but it didn't change the fact that her home life would simply cease to exist. Her sister Camilla was down in Texas working hard on her PhD, and her parents would be leaving for the airport right after they had dropped her off.

Which admittedly was new, but also more than a little depressing. In the past, she'd been left mostly alone at home, though she'd had friends and extended family making occasional visits. This time, Quinn was in Chicago visiting Frannie and her fiancé for the holidays, Brittany was heading to the Netherlands to visit her grandmother as she usually did, and her extended family decided they wouldn't make any visits. Which was also new, and from what Santana understood, heavily related to her public incident a month and a half ago. And, well, her parents just couldn't leave her entirely alone, so when one of their coworkers insisted on housing her for the duration of her parents' conference-slash-anniversary vacation, they couldn't say no. And it didn't cross their minds to even ask Santana's opinion, of course.

And so there she stood at the side of the road, the sound of her parents' SUV driving away filling her ears as she looked at the goddamned Berry residence. Home to Rachel Berry and her two doting fathers, a house where she would be cooped up in for a little over two weeks. _Fuck my life…seriously, Fuck. My. Life._

Santana was far from pleased. Her parents hadn't even listened to her when she regaled them with tales of how she and Rachel didn't get along, and instead insisted that she behave like a proper guest and treat them properly. Which, in her mind, meant that she'd probably hole up in whatever dark corner of the house she was given, and get a head start on her schoolwork and sleep twelve hours a day, occasionally going downstairs to make her presence known whenever necessary. Because really, being sociable with Rachel Berry was dangerous, mostly because the hobbit had an issue with speaking in large paragraphs instead of sentences like regular human beings. Also because she was obsessed with musicals. And, of course, she was more than a little overbearing. Even with Berry having been a bit better so far during their senior year, there were a lot of things about the diva that she was pretty sure would be entirely aggravating, so for Santana, the future wasn't looking so rosy.

"Well, fuck, at least Hanukkah's over and I won't embarrass myself over that…whatever, let's see just how big of a train-wreck this can be." She muttered to herself as she hauled her luggage up the walkway and to the front door, ringing the doorbell with her elbow as her hands were both full.

Muffled pitter-pattering of feet followed suit, and soon the door swung open to reveal Rachel Berry, in all of her animal sweater-wearing glory. "Good evening, Santana!" the girl exclaimed happily, though her features turned ever so slightly harder immediately afterward. Which, you know, may or may not have been because Santana rolled her eyes. "Now, before you enter my family's home, I must make it clear that you're expected to be respectful, and I won't tolerate any bullying or disparaging remarks as this is my sanctuary, not McKinley High, and while my fathers may not be home at this instant, they are assuredly on their way home from the grocery store by now with…"

"Berry, calm your tits. It's cold as hell out here, and I get it…no names and shit. Whatever." Santana said as she interrupted the diva's egregiously long rant. "It's like you think I haven't been to people's parents' houses before or anything."

"Oh, um…yes…I suppose you can come in. Just remember I have a zero tolerance policy, and so do my fathers, and while I would lament any egregious missteps in behaviour on your part, not only due to the offense itself, but also due to the fact that we agreed to take you in, I fear..." Rachel started rambling confidently, stepping to the side to allow Santana entry. As she moved into the foyer with Berry still babbling her ear off about something or other, she caught Rachel about to grab one of her suitcases.

"Hands off." She bit out, twisting away from the diva, freezing the girl in place with a glare. "Look, I'll stay out of your hair, you stay out of mine, and we're good, okay? My day's been crazy, so I'll just set up and go to bed early or something."

Rachel stood about a foot away, having flinched when Santana had snapped at her; the girl's gaze was stuck on hers and it was kind of weird to see the diva's eyes so apologetic. "Sure. I'll show you to your room, Santana."

She trudged up the stairs after the smaller girl, hoping that her stay there wouldn't be an absolute nightmare. It had potential, sure, but Santana wasn't much of a gambler on things like this; she bet that it would be a long, hard two weeks. Which really wasn't anything she wanted to imagine.

* * *

_Evening of December 17th_

* * *

Despite her love for all things Nathan Fillion, Rachel was too distracted to focus on the screen in front of her. Castle was always a fun show to watch, but where he and the real detectives were currently perplexed over some case or another, she was perplexed over Santana. Rachel had seen the girl once in the last twenty four hours, during a brief dinner session; her fellow gleek had eaten the meal and washed her dishes in the span of fifteen minutes, hurrying back upstairs directly afterward. Not only that, but Santana was eerily quiet, answered any questions quietly and politely, and didn't even glare at her when she went off on a rant mid-way through the meal. Hey, it wasn't her fault that Elizabeth Hasselbeck made a semi-disparaging remark about Barbra Streisand on The View, and SOMEONE needed to know that what was said was utterly reprehensible, of course.

Ultimately, Santana just seemed to be acting strangely, and her fathers hadn't been their usual attentive, hyper-friendly selves around the girl. Normally if they housed a guest, her dads would be fawning over them, but they more or less kept their distance and only addressed her when she was near, and even then they were restrained. It was all a bit weird, and she was having a tremendously difficult time understanding what was going on.

The first thought that came to her mind was that maybe Santana had threatened her parents, but that was quickly dismissed, because the girl likely hadn't brought anything terribly dangerous in her luggage, and if she had threatened them, they would have said some of their pre-practiced emergency phrases. On top of that, if the girl had gained some upper hand through threats, Rachel figured Santana would have been treating their home as her own, which simply wasn't happening.

Her second thought was that Santana bribed her fathers to just leave her alone, which had very much been a possibility. Despite her fathers having quite successful careers with rather hefty salaries, she knew that they tended to take whatever opportunities they came across to add to her post-secondary education fund. It was one of the only areas where they would toss morality aside, so taking money from a teenage girl didn't seem too far of a stretch, but she'd checked their bank account just after dinner and noticed that the balance hadn't changed at all. So that was out as a possibility as well.

Which left Rachel with a mess of unlikely reasons for the trio's behavior, all of which had her head spinning. It wasn't as if she needed an answer, she just really, really wanted one, but she also wasn't sure she could trust the word of her fathers on it, considering they were acting weird themselves. So she sat there, Castle playing in the background as she deliberated on the issue. Until she realized she was starting to nod off, which immediately took her focus away from the trio's behavior, and toward the fact that it was late and she hadn't started her night-time routine yet. Which honestly was quite horrible, as she always tended to be less effective and efficient when she was tired; meaning, her morning routine would need extending, which would get her day started off worse, something she always wanted to avoid.

Rachel got to her feet, sleepily navigating her way through the living room and the kitchen, her eyelids feeling tremendously heavy. It was then that she decided that such heavy thinking could be left for a mid-day activity in order to spare her such an experience. She groggily moved up the stairs one at a time, her hand on the railing as she ascended in order to keep her balance. Her lips formed a smile as she spotted her doorway down the hall, the promise of sleep and rest luring her forward.

But not too much forward, as Rachel felt herself collide with something firm, sending her unexpectedly stumbling backward toward the staircase. Her hand flung out and luckily managed to grab a hold of the railing's end-post, while a warm, damp hand caught hold of her other wrist. Rachel's focus returned quickly, and she found herself staring at a near-nude Santana Lopez in a small, white towel. And when Santana yanked her further from the danger of falling down the stairs, she was within inches of said nearly nude girl, who looked both concerned and amused if that was possible.

"Totes past your bedtime, Berry. You should be more careful or whatever." The girl noted, exhaling sharply through her nose as she slipped past Rachel and into the nearby guest room.

Rachel stood there in shock for a few seconds, her sleep-deprived brain needing a few seconds longer to really process what had just happened. _Santana Lopez just…just helped me from falling down my staircase…and she didn't insult me, nor was there any malice in her tone. She didn't shoulder-check me either, or do anything else that was violent…she merely told me to be careful, which was good advice given my current state…_ she mused, looking back toward the closed guest-room door. _Very strange…but I'm already late. Perhaps I'll sleep on it and let myself worry tomorrow. And I'll set alarms to remind me when to go to bed, too, because I don't want a repeat of this…_

* * *

Santana would be lying if she wasn't ninety percent amused, flopping down onto the bed in her room. She'd honestly never seen anyone look and act so ridiculously sleepy before, the girl practically toppling sideways onto her after unsteadily ascending the staircase. That extra ten percent was adrenaline from watching Berry almost fall to her doom. The scene kept replaying in her mind, and she couldn't help but laugh under her breath at how the girl had just stood there, all bleary-eyed and stunned. Truthfully, she'd expected some sort of verbal reaction from the diva; the silence she'd received was a bit unnerving. Even at dinner, Berry was uncharacteristically soft-spoken, only breaking that with a short twenty or thirty second rant about something related to Barbra Streisand. Santana had expected the girl to be her usual overbearing, loud, hyperactive self, but Rachel had pretty much kept out of her way, and looked wary about even the prospect of interacting with her. It was kind of really strange, and she didn't know what to think about it. Silently, she hoped the girl wasn't scared of her; Santana thought she'd done enough since joining glee to basically show that she wouldn't be violent or shit. At least, barring that one time where she DID try to maul Berry. But that was, like, only one time.

Not quite tired enough to go to sleep, Santana quickly got dressed, slipped under the warm sheets, and flipped open her laptop, deciding to check her facebook. It had been something of a habit that time of year, to see what everyone on her friends' list was up to. Just like she'd been doing for the majority of the past thirty hours. Apparently Brittany spent all afternoon looking for polar bears and mountain goats, Quinn finished her holiday shopping at the Oak Brook Center, and her cousin Nicole spent the day at the beach down in Florida, because apparently some heat wave rolled through there. _Awesome…they're off doing cool shit and here I am, being a holiday hermit in someone else's home. Fuck it's pathetic how lon…how L-word I am. You'd think I'd be used to it by now…_ she thought, letting out a long exhale, sinking further back against her pillows. _I need to get a grip…feeling sorry for myself is fucking stupid. I have a small handful of really good friends, I have money, I have parents that love me even if they're not around all the time, I have some of the best grades in McKinley's senior class and a kick ass portfolio, both of which should get me acceptance into the program for my sort-of dream…I'm doing alright._

And it was true, she did feel fortunate. She led a pretty great life, and was pretty happy most months of the year, but it was just 'that time of the year', and it was a big reason why she had a sort of masochistic love-hate relationship with December. It was the 'holiday' season, everyone was gathering with their friends, families and loved ones, and despite being housed by the Berrys, it didn't change that she was just as alone as always. They weren't her family, they weren't her friends, and while she held some sort of love for Rachel as a teammate, it didn't really extend beyond an 'I have your back if shit goes down' kind of thing.

"Well, at least it'll be the last one where I'm stuck watching them leave…I'll be in New York this time next year, probably with, like, friends and shit." She muttered to herself as she scanned through her front page, looking at all the entries about Christmas and shopping and snow and whatever. And sure, she knew that things would be different once she graduated, but it didn't change the present. It didn't change that for two weeks, she had to spend a bunch of time in a house that wasn't hers, and with people she didn't really know well.

Seeing no one of note on Facebook's chat, she hopped onto Skype, hoping that maybe Quinn or Britt were there, but she was quickly disappointed. _Fuck…I just want to freaking talk to SOMEONE. Why can't they be on Skype for at least, like, a half an hour a day? That'd be awesome…_

Santana shut down Skype and as she was about to close the browser with Facebook, she came to a realization that for once, Rachel hadn't been spamming shit all over her wall. She decided to take a moment to see what was up, because if anyone was a prolific status updater in glee, it was Rachel. Well, Kurt and Mercedes did it more, but Rachel was pretty close in terms of posting stuff like four or five times a day, and her updates tended to be massive paragraphs. Upon first glance, she didn't see anything, so Santana went to Rachel's page, finding the last update was Thursday after the girl's final exam of the semester. _Weird…thought she would have been all "We need to focus on regionals now, so I'm going to spam fifty songs tailored to each member so we can prepare over the break" or whatever, like usual, but she's gone all radio silence or shit, and…wait, what?_ She froze as she looked at the info box on Rachel's profile, one specific detail capturing her full attention. _The hobbit's birthday is tomorrow? What the fuck! Why did no one tell me this? Wait…why isn't there an event for it? I mean, it's Berry…she's like a living, organized, five year plan, she HAS to have a…_

Then it struck her, as her memory finally broke through the shock and confusion. _She didn't have a party last year…or sophomore year, either…hell, I've been in her classes since, like, fifth grade, and I don't think I've ever heard her invite anyone, not even back when she and Britt were closer…_

An idea slowly took shape in Santana's mind; while she knew it was kind of a heavy risk, and that it could backfire wildly, she really wanted something to do that involved not moping around on her computer. Boredom and self-pity were starting to grate on her nerves. Besides, she didn't want to spend two full weeks alone, and testing the Rachel Berry waters to see if the girl could be at least a little tolerable seemed like a good enough idea. Worst case scenario, she could go full hermit style again and bribe B & Q to hop on Skype more often.

Santana, feeling somewhat content with her very loose plan of action, shut down her computer and placed it on her nightstand; when she closed her eyes, she knew she was in for more of a nap than a full fledged sleep, but figured it would maybe be worth it if all went well. It was just a little weird to do any of that 'best foot forward' stuff for once, was all. _Whatever, I'll deal with it. So long as Berry can tone down her diva, I'll tone down my bitch..._


	2. Chapter 2

_Morning of December 18_ _th_

* * *

Rachel was, like most winter mornings, warm and comfy in her bed as she woke, her body not needing the alarm to go off for her to know it was six in the morning. What WAS different than usual was the fact that her parents were entering the room with a tray full of tasty-smelling breakfast, something that to her recollection had only happened once before, when she had been too sick in third grade to go downstairs to eat. Her parents were usually waking up around six or six-thirty, unless Hiram was working the midnight shift and was long gone, so breakfast in bed just didn't really ever happen. While Rachel generally preferred to workout first and then eat, she couldn't help but smile brightly at the gesture. It WAS really sweet, after all, and certainly a nice way to start off her birthday.

Eating didn't take very long, and soon she had completed her workout and her morning routines; it was the one thing she enjoyed about the morning, it just flew past if she kept herself busy. Refreshed and feeling rather fantastic, Rachel went downstairs to the living room to plan out her day, only to see Santana sitting on the couch beside her two fathers, all intently watching whatever news broadcast was on. Surprised didn't seem like the appropriate word to use for how she felt at that moment, as it was far too underwhelming; Santana had basically avoided them all on the sixteenth and seventeenth, and yet there she was on the couch as if nothing at all was amiss, as if nothing was weird about her being there. Especially given Rachel's knowledge that Santana was a bit of a night owl, and that the girl wasn't much of a morning person.

Despite how perplexed she felt, she decided to just go with it, and took a spot on the couch beside LeRoy, sitting furthest away from Santana, who had given her a small nod in greeting before turning her focus back to the television. The broadcast had been half over when she'd arrived, so she patiently waited, as usual, for it to finish before getting down to business.

"So, what's on the agenda for today, cupcake?" Hiram asked, just as the newscast was ending. Rachel couldn't help but blush at the term of endearment her fathers both enjoyed using; she was sure Santana would tease her about it in the future, but as she looked across the couch at her fathers, she could only see a hint of a smile on the other girl's face. Which probably meant that she would indeed be teased, but not likely right at that moment, which was a relief.

"Well…I would like to build snowmen in the front yard to help make our home's presentation more festive for this time of the year. Many of our neighbours have taken to only stringing up some lights, and not always multi-coloured ones, so I feel that our area of the street could use an infusion of holiday cheer. After that, I was thinking a trip to Columbus for dinner and a show of Phantom of the Opera would be wonderful, and then we could all return here to spend the evening watching Funny Girl, starring the incomparable Barbra Streisand." Rachel was only slightly surprised that she was able to list all of that out in one breath and undisturbed, knowing her breath control was fairly impeccable; more or less she'd grown to expect Santana to cut her off during her 'rambling', yet the girl was quiet as a mouse, just looking at her with this unreadable expression. Despite how thrilled Rachel was about today being her birthday, it was turning out to be rather weird and out of the ordinary.

LeRoy nodded and hugged her against his side, using his free hand to muss up her hair, an action that Rachel was always unimpressed with, and she showed it with a loud huff. "Well, we have our plan, then. Do we have a schedule?"

"Well, it's eight o'clock currently, so if we finish up decorating the front yard by quarter after eleven, we will have time for lunch before we leave for the city. Depending on traffic, we'll have maybe an hour or so of potential window-shopping time, which I know you love daddy…" she began, earning a thankful nod from Hiram. "And then we'll be in the matinee show at quarter to three. It's a local production of the show, so I can't give a timeline for when we should get out, but I'm guessing that we'll be able to get to dinner by six thirty, we get home at eight-thirty, and then we can put on Funny Girl to conclude the festivities."

Once again, Santana was dead silent, nodding ever so slightly as she listed out the details of the schedule, once again absolutely unreadable. Not that Rachel prided herself on being perceptive when it came to people, but she generally had some idea of how people were feeling in most situations. Santana, however, had always been difficult to read unless the girl wanted to make it very clear that she was angry, upset, or whatnot. Ultimately, she assumed it was just the girl pretending to be interested in what was happening, as it hadn't been mentioned that it was her birthday yet, at least in front of Santana. Which was a bit disappointing, though she wondered if it was more due to Santana not knowing it was her birthday, or if it was because the girl wouldn't be taking part in the day's events. Both were kind of upsetting; admittedly, Rachel had always wanted someone her age to spend time with her on her birthday, at least someone who wasn't basically required as Finn had been in sophomore year, for instance. And even then, he'd shown up midway through the afternoon and more or less interrupted the plans she'd set in place for the day. She just wanted someone who wasn't obligated to attend to WANT to be there to celebrate with her. It was a wish that she'd had for years that had gone more or less unfulfilled, as Rachel had never had very many friends, and most didn't make time out of their day to visit or contact her on her birthday, so she supposed it shouldn't be much of a shock that Santana would help continue that tradition.

However, while getting all bundled up in the foyer, Rachel noticed Santana was slowly getting her winter-weather clothing on as well, which was more than a small surprise. Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, she just continued wrapping herself up in scarves and mittens and everything, occasionally glancing over at the other girl who was following their lead. For once, she was able to catch some glimpse of emotion on the girl's face, and that was a brief flicker of uncertainty. _Maybe she's just embarrassed about being seen outside with us? But…well, she IS going outside with us, so she can't be THAT embarrassed, knowing how much she cares about her image and all…_

Once outside, they all got to work quickly; Rachel's dads were hauling most of the snow in their backyard to the front, ensuring that there wouldn't be any patches of dead grass showing from all the snowmen and snowwomen she planned on rolling up. The holidays, after all, weren't the same without music, so she planned on making a big chorus of snow people. Rachel figured that so long as she focused, she'd be able to get at least twelve done before they had to grab some lunch.

Since she had decided on the chorus idea, Rachel took it up a notch and figured she'd implement characteristics of each member of glee into the snow people to individualize them a bit, so that's what she spent much of her time on. She finished rolling up a snow Rachel, proud of the simple resemblance she'd made in its form, and went to blindly grab for a carrot, only to find one placed into her hand. Rachel looked at the orange vegetable with scrutiny, noticing that it was rather large in both girth and length.

Instantly, she felt herself awash with emotion, having hoped that the girl could leave the nose jokes behind for at least one day. At least on her birthday. Feeling more upset than rational, she glared at the other girl, who recoiled a little in confusion; Santana looked down at the carrot, then at the small pile of carrots nestled in the snow. She watched her guest put away the carrot she'd been holding and pick up another one, looking at it closely before handing it to Rachel, appearing entirely puzzled.

Rachel snatched the carrot away quickly and placed it on the head of her snow person. "I don't appreciate the joke, Santana." She grit out, assessing the head of her work of art as she applied the eyes, deciding whether or not it looked good enough.

"I just grabbed a carrot, whatever short-stack." She heard Santana mutter before the girl trudged away. The brief urge to apologize annoyed her, but it didn't keep her from looking back at the stack of carrots, feeding her sudden curiosity.

Now, Rachel could admit when she was wrong, and looking at the pile of veggies, it honestly wasn't clear which carrot Santana had given her, as they all were rather enormous. She blushed in embarrassment at her assumption and looked across the yard at Santana, who was busy meticulously carving away at a large, tall chunk of snow. _I don't want to tick her off, and I'm sure she would either be annoyed at my apology, or would be intensely smug about it…neither of which I would enjoy. I think I'll just keep working, and apologize later on…that's probably for the best…_

It took a good long while, but eventually she finished her glee-influenced snow person chorus, taking the most pride in her Artie snowman. Hiram was still toiling away on decorating them all with old hats and scarves and other accessories that they tended to use for projects like this. He didn't usually take part in the building aspect, often standing back and taking pictures instead for their annual Berry family photo album.

The absence of her dad LeRoy was curious, though, as he usually stuck by Hiram's side; a quick glance around the yard was enough to see he was helping Santana out over at her little area by the shrubs. Both bodies were standing in her line of sight, blocking her from any details, but she could see that there were only two snow-related things that had been created, which seemed a bit peculiar given the time that had elapsed.

Deciding to feed her curiosity, she strode across the yard to observe their efforts, rolling her eyes at the fact that both LeRoy and Santana rotated around the second sculpture to block Rachel's view. However, her eyes bulged when she took in the sight of the one they'd left open for viewing; it was a life-sized sculpture of Santa, and she couldn't help but be baffled at how detailed it was. LeRoy didn't have an artistic bone in his body, so she could only assume it was all Santana's doing, which was a shock. Back in sixth grade, she'd seen the girl draw, and she'd been quite good at the time, but sculpting was an entirely different art form. For years, Rachel had been envious of the snow sculptures outside on the Pierce family's lawn, but she'd always thought it had been Brittany's father who made them all. He was a painter and photographer, so it seemed to fit well enough. To learn that Santana might have had a hand in helping was a shock to her system, and only spurred on her curiosity, her focus turning to the mostly hidden second sculpture, which was smaller.

Deciding to try and be stealthy, she tiptoed around the shrub and tried to peek around her dad, but it just wasn't happening, Rachel only able to get a view of the back of the sculpture. It looked like an elf kneeling in the snow, but she wasn't entirely sure. Deciding she wasn't getting anywhere with being sneaky, she cleared her throat, causing LeRoy to turn around with a big grin on his face and a small pen cap in his hand that had clearly been used to scrape small bits of snow out.

"What do you think, have we done an accurate job?" He asked her, stepping off to the side to give Rachel the full view of the sculpture. Her eyes immediately took in the details of the sculpture, and once her brain caught up to what she was seeing, she blushed once again, this time from embarrassment and flattery.

The sculpture was a Christmas elf, complete with hat and dress, with a large closed sack in its hands; the thing that really set it apart was that it had her face. It was literally a Rachel Berry Christmas elf, and she could tell by the stifled giggles to her right that Santana was more than a little amused with her work. She turned to the girl, who was biting her lip, trying desperately not to laugh, but failed entirely once she shot the girl a playful glare. After all, how could she be truly mad at someone who had taken the time to sculpt her? While it wasn't photo-realistic, per se, it was certainly quite accurate.

"Well, it's accurate in that it reflects my facial features, but I certainly am not that short." She noted with a huff, placing her hands on her hips, which only had Santana and LeRoy laughing harder.

"I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I just couldn't, it's priceless." Santana said between laughs, not even trying to contain how funny she found it all.

Which, really, was rather frustrating, because she was the birthday girl and she honestly was NOT that short! Santana was only about three inches taller than her! "I'm NOT that short…I'm not an elf." She mumbled, crossing her arms across her chest, only to be hugged against her dad.

"You ARE kind of short, cupcake." He said lovingly, and it was true, she was on the low end of the national average, which could be grounds to declare her as short, but elves were supposed to be tiny, and she wasn't THAT tiny. Not really. "And besides, elves are cute."

Rachel grumbled at the last bit, though sounds of her displeasure trailed off when she noticed Santana nodding and wearing a small smile, back to detailing the ears. Not that she would ever take it that way, but the other girl could have possibly insinuated that she also found elves cute, and that since she had carved Rachel as an elf, that she found Rachel cute too. Which seemed a bit of a stretch, but seeing as there hadn't been any malice in the girl's actions or words, she took it as at least a positive development. Certainly not as proof that Santana thought she was cute, which just wasn't at all anything she would ever wonder about. At all. Ever.

Soon enough, Santana stepped away from her handiwork, both of her sculptures contrasting wildly to Rachel's own chorus; she had enjoyed the simple process of rolling up balls of snow and adding minor details to each, but apparently that wasn't the other girl's style. "Who taught you to do that, anyway?" she asked, not really caring to censor herself, too curious to care about any rebuttal.

Santana shrugged and turned to face her. "Britt's mom used to sculpt, and she showed us how to do it one day when we were bored…we started with clay and all, but Britt loves snow, so we kind of moved onto that. We got pretty good at it after a while, though B tends to just make unicorns and snow-ducks." Santana explained in what might have been the longest string of sentences Rachel had heard from the girl. Normally, her fellow gleek was less forthcoming, and spoke in short, concise sentences, so it was a bit weird to hear her explain something at relative length.

Not really knowing what to say in response, she just nodded and looked at her watch. "Well, it looks wonderful either way. But we really should get inside and eat if we don't want to be late." She stated, kind of pleased at how her day has started off. Rachel only hoped it would just get better and better.

* * *

_Evening of December 18_ _th_

* * *

Rachel was humming along to the music in the car on the way home from Columbus; it had made for a wonderful afternoon and evening, which had her feeling proud about her planning for the day. Shopping in Columbus had been hectic, but lovely, giving her the opportunity to finish her last minute shopping. The play had been wonderful, at least aside from the odd vocal issue from some members of the cast; she hadn't expected Broadway level talent, so she wasn't disappointed, she just felt that the leads could have been more prepared. And capping the adventure off, their dinner had been absolutely delicious; the vegan restaurant her fathers brought her to had just opened a few months ago, and was already on her list of favourite dining establishments after a single meal.

It was just unfortunate that her guest clearly wasn't as enthused as her; Santana was curled up in her seat, her head uncomfortably resting against the window. She felt it was fortunate that her dad's car had such good shocks, and that they were driving on a smooth road, otherwise it likely would have been a horrible ride for the girl.

Santana had been nodding off a bit during the play, and had appeared clearly tired during dinner; at first, Rachel thought the girl was acting that way out of disrespect for musical theatre, but her sluggish display during dinner cemented the idea that maybe the girl WAS truly exhausted. Still, Rachel knew that she would have fought through the exhaustion to be fully awake for all the wonderful events on her birthday, but Santana was a bit of a mystery, and she couldn't help but wonder why the girl had flamed out so quickly. She'd considered many possibilities, crafting lists in her mind before settling on the idea that maybe Santana had difficulty falling asleep in new environments, or maybe she had insomnia. Santana was a cheerleader after all, and she wouldn't be surprised if Sue Sylvester tested strange medicine and chemicals with potentially negative side-effects on them all. Such medical interventions seemed par for the course when it came to the rather brutal and psychotic cheerleading coach.

It just seemed a bit sad that Santana was clearly passed out so early in the evening. Given the girl's reputation as a bit of a night owl, Rachel had expected Santana to be wide awake at that hour, not fast asleep. "I can't believe she's asleep already." She noted, vocalizing her thoughts and disappointment. Not that the girl's company had been anything but positive all day long, which she truly did appreciate given that such occasions were immensely rare, but it was just unfortunate that she wouldn't have it for the rest of the night as well. It wasn't often that Santana was nice to, or even tolerant of her, and she wanted to take as much advantage of that as possible.

Hiram reached his hand back toward her, which Rachel took, enjoying the comforting gesture. Her parents always seemed to know when she could use some affection, and she loved that about them. "When we woke at ten to six, Santana was already up, just finishing breakfast." He said quietly, subtly reminding her to keep her voice down.

"She was awake at just past eleven when I went upstairs, so she must have had a hard time sleeping." She stated, nodding at her own conclusion, though she stilled at her father's shake of the head.

"Maybe. But cupcake, she made breakfast for everyone. She practically threw your tray of food at us and demanded we give it to you. She has a pretty mean glare, that girl." He noted, chuckling a little bit. "She's a bit rough around the edges, but I can't say I didn't enjoy not having to make my own food this morning."

Rachel looked over at the sleeping girl once again, feeling confused for what might have been a record number of times in a day. "Why would she do that?"

"Because it's your birthday? I don't know, sweetheart, maybe you should ask her later." He said, giving her hand a squeeze before turning back toward the windshield.

Rachel just hummed in agreement, knowing she would indeed ask Santana about it sometime or another. As she returned to contentedly humming along to the music, she stole occasional glances at the girl, wondering what the cheerleader's angle was. First, breakfast in bed, then the snow sculpture that, in retrospect, was actually quite flattering. It made her feel weird, and it was much too confusing to ponder about, so she decided that maybe Santana was trying to make a good first impression on her parents. It was the only thing that really fit.

Eventually, they pulled into the driveway and soon Hiram was helping a dazed Santana out of the car. She was halfway done stripping off her winter clothing when she saw him starting to lead the girl upstairs, only for Santana to abruptly turn around and attempt to stagger back downstairs. "I jus' need some coffee, I'll be fine. I'm awake." Santana mumbled, gracelessly stumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen. The diva held back her own amusement, wondering if maybe that's sort of what Santana saw in her the previous night when she was dead-tired.

Rachel moved into the kitchen as well, grabbing a glass of water while Santana was halfway flopped across the counter in what looked to be an entirely uncomfortable position, clearly waiting for her coffee to be ready. She shrugged and continued into the living room, settling down on the couch while her fathers set the movie up. There was no better way to cap off a day, in her mind, than watching Funny Girl.

Just after getting comfy on the couch, she heard some footsteps on the staircase. Rachel couldn't help but think that maybe Santana changed her mind, but just as the movie started up, Santana lazily walked in from the kitchen and plopped down on the couch, heavily leaning against the armrest. It was a little odd to look at, she imagined, herself being tucked in warm and cozy under a blanket, nestled between her fathers while Santana was a foot or two away on the opposite end with all the throw pillows.

As per usual, Rachel was the only one awake through the entirety of the film, its finishing time perfectly orchestrated to align with her nightly regimen. Her fathers were asleep beside her, and Santana was curled up at the end of the couch, hugging a throw pillow against her chest. _Maybe one day, someone will be able to appreciate this film as much as I do…_

She woke her fathers up, LeRoy following her up the stairs as he more or less carried a sleeping Santana; Rachel wasn't sure the girl deserved that treatment, as she probably just could have been woken up, but their guest seemed like a deep enough sleeper to maybe warrant it, given her own rather extensive attempts to wake the cheerleader.

Her routine went off without a hitch that night, a good rebound from the previous effort; however, just as she was about to slide under her covers, she noticed a small package on her bed, all wrapped in white paper with a gold bow on top. Carefully and cautiously, she unwrapped it, finding a ridiculously soft scarf inside with a pattern of small, shiny gold stars decorating it, and little pom-poms lining the edges.

Rachel knew that her fathers, like every year, gave their gifts across the day; today's gifts had been dinner, the tickets for the play and the merchandise she bought, as well as a few things she picked up while shopping. That left the unnamed gift-giver as Santana, which was a bit confusing, as she wasn't quite sure when the girl had time to buy it, but apparently she managed to. Once more, Rachel felt the material with her hands, reveling in how soft it was, and how warm it would likely keep her. It was a really sweet, thoughtful gift, and despite her confusion, she could only smile at the idea that Santana had thought about her enough to get her something. Gently, she folded it up and placed it safely beside her bed, knowing she'd bring it downstairs the next morning.

Until then, she could enjoy the moment with a smile, and fall asleep knowing full well that she'd had a rather wonderful birthday.


	3. Chapter 3

_Evening of December 19th_

* * *

The next day was a little weird for Rachel. After having been involved throughout her birthday, Santana had gone back to being a hermit once again. Her fathers spent much of the day at work, so she more or less tried to keep busy while trying not to bug the other girl over the abrupt change. Rachel was unsure whether Santana had simply included herself just because it was her birthday, or if it was just a test run that she hadn't enjoyed; either way, she wasn't sure she had the courage to ask, and had decided that she wouldn't push anyway.

Besides, after the hectic activity of her birthday, she'd decided to have something of a lazy day, spending most of it practicing her vocals and dance, researching music for regionals, and categorizing the music depending on its suitability to solos, duets or group numbers. Occasionally, Santana would come downstairs, and Rachel would get a glimpse of the girl in the kitchen, making hot chocolate or something tasty as a snack. Then, of course, the cheerleader would return upstairs, to her hidey-hole.

Later that night, as she left the comfort of the living room to return to her computer upstairs, she felt the urge to see what it was that Santana spent so much time on all day. As sneakily as she could, she made her way down the hall, peeking into the guest room; Rachel quickly spotted Santana laying on her stomach on the bed, headphones covering her ears as she was clearly focusing on the laptop in front of her. She noticed the girl's hands were active, Santana using a hardcover book as an improvised mouse pad, so she knew the girl couldn't simply just be listening to music.

Rachel was curious for certain, but decided that answers could come another day, knowing full well how much she hated being interrupted when she was focusing intently on a project of her own. Returning to her room, she made a mental note of the growing questions to ask her guest, wondering when she'd have the opportunity, or if she'd have to engineer it.

* * *

_Evening of December 20th_

* * *

It was snowing outside, finally. Santana had been waiting for days, hoping that the snow would fall before Christmas; not that she was a huge fan of snow, but it was a big part of her sole respectable holiday tradition. Over the past few days, she'd mostly been up in her guest room on her laptop, waiting impatiently for the little flakes of frozen water to fall from the sky.

Not that snow was the only reason for her to do things, because she probably had a bunch of opportunities to do stuff with Berry, but the girl hadn't seemed too receptive of her involvement in her birthday shenanigans, so she'd backed off a bit to give Rachel space. Sure, she'd surprisingly enjoyed the day's events and sculpting was always fun, especially seeing Rachel's reaction, but she knew Berry didn't trust her and didn't really like her either. And maybe for good reason, or whatever. Santana liked to think that since she hadn't messed with the girl in a really long time that they had a truce, and bygones were bygones or whatever. Though while she knew that it was a logical way of thinking, Santana also knew that Berry probably didn't think like a regular human being, given her hobbit-like height and her boundless energy levels of some weird mythical forest elf or something. The girl confused her, to put it lightly, and while Rachel wore her heart on her sleeve at school, things were a lot less clear since she'd arrived at the Berry household.

Which made sense, given she WAS intruding, and probably disturbing their routines just by existing, so Santana figured she'd give them all a bit of a break. With that in mind, she quietly padded down the stairs and into the foyer, getting prepped for the winter weather outside. Santana felt like she'd just walked into some weird television moment when, as soon as she placed her hand on the doorknob, Rachel spoke up behind her.

"What are you doing?" the girl asked, sounding curious, and perhaps a tiny bit wary. Which made sense; Berry was about as nosy as she was, but she was also a fair bit more cautious in contrast to Santana's general tendency to be brash and aggressive.

"Going out." She answered simply, before opening the door and stepping out into the chilled winter air. However, the dull snap of Rachel's loose-fitting slippers against the walkway informed her that the diva was keen on following her out, and not at all impressed with her answers. When she turned around to look at the smaller girl, that much was confirmed, as Rachel gave her a pointed look. "Look, you're not my mother or whatever, so don't give me that shit." She noted flatly, holding a hand up as Rachel was about to speak. "One, I'm not in your house, so you don't get to call me out for language or whatever, okay? Two? I'm going out to do something you'll probably find frustrating and boring as hell because there's no talking allowed."

Rachel's expression morphed from one of annoyance to hesitant excitement, the diva practically bouncing in her god-forsaken pajamas and slippers. "Can you give me a few minutes to get ready?" Santana groaned at the girl's question and the fact that Rachel invited herself, but nodded anyway, entirely confused at why Berry was even making the effort. Everyone knew Rachel had an innate need to speak. Not many would willingly join the cheerio while knowing they would likely piss her off. Despite having been outed, there were still a good number of people scared of her at school.

Santana walked back into the foyer and waited a grand total of seven minutes before Rachel was shuffling toward her, all bundled up and holding two large thermoses. "In case we get chilly." Rachel said simply, handing Santana one; she took hold of it, sliding the opening to take in the scent of hot chocolate. It was a nice touch, and she might have smiled a tiny bit in appreciation.

However, not even ten minutes into their walk, Rachel finally blurted out the question she'd been visibly struggling with in regards of holding it in. Seriously, the girl had eventually started doing this weird little nervous dance thing as she walked that looked absolutely ridiculous and may have included some form of jazz hands. It was absurd. "Where are we going?" the girl blurted out, earning a sigh, because seriously, the 'no talking' rule was made perfectly clear at the onset. It wasn't even vague or anything, and she knew that Berry was usually good at following rules. Her initial hopes had been placed in that truth, and that truth was clearly strapped to a pyre and burning to ash now.

"No talking, Berry." She answered, hoping the girl would take the hint, but like a dam with one large crack, more formed until the whole damn thing burst.

"I just want to know in case we're going somewhere dangerous." Rachel continued, anxiously stressing that last word, which was completely worthy of an eye-roll, because who the fuck brought anyone anywhere dangerous that close to Christmas? Seriously.

"It's not dangerous." She grit out, hoping it would be enough, though she knew hope wasn't enough. Not when Rachel Berry was involved. No, that girl was just as stubborn and persistent as she was at times.

"Where are we going, then?" Berry asked again, this time prodding Santana's arm with a mittened hand. Which earned her a glare that had the tiny diva shrinking away to an almost comical level.

"Around. Now stop talking." She insisted, but the frustrated expression on Berry's face let her know that more talking would sadly commence, making her regret bringing the diva. Because seriously, it wasn't a hard rule to follow. And it wasn't like keeping one's mouth closed was freaking hard or anything. Nose-breathing was absolutely a legit option, especially with Rachel's nose being what it was.

Once again, Rachel prodded her nervously yet insistently. "That didn't answer my question though! It was much too vague and it…"

"Berry, you really need to be quiet, we're just talking a goddamn walk!" She growled out, and for once, Rachel looked a bit indignant, crossing her arms across her chest and muttering something that sounded like 'Fine'. Which was totes a victory, because Berry was silent for a long while afterward.

And that was awesome, because it let Santana focus on what she was out there for in the first place, just taking in the sight of all the houses covered in Christmas lights and decorations. It was her only really positive annual tradition, going out and looking at all the lights. She knew all the best neighbourhoods to walk through, which parks looked the prettiest all blanketed in snow; not that she was a total sap or whatever, but she'd always valued beauty, and that extended to more than just people.

They weaved through street after street, following a slightly modified version of Santana's usual path, and about forty minutes in, Rachel finally seemed to understand what was going on. As if it wasn't ridiculously obvious. Sometimes she worried that the diva caught the occasional bit of depressing obliviousness from Finnept. "Oh my goodness, we're out looking at Christmas lights." The diva breathed out, apparently shocked to the point of holding a hand against her chest, this big megawatt smile on her face. It was a bit overdramatic, but that's how Berry was.

Santana couldn't hold back her laughter at confirmation of how dense Rachel had been, which earned her possibly one of the most weirdly amusing pouts she'd seen. "I can't believe it took you this long. Seriously, Berry." She was pretty sure some of the words were incomprehensible due to her laughter, but whatever.

"It's not THAT funny…it wasn't that obvious, really." Rachel grumbled, which was pretty much the best response she could have imagined to her teasing. These days, she didn't like hurting Berry, she just liked making her all petulant and childish, because Rachel was always being so prim and mature and everything, and it was nice to bring out that spoiled little kid in her.

Deciding to give the girl a break, and knowing Rachel would indeed want details, she figured she'd get them out of the way early. "I've done this every year since I was four. My parents used to take me out, and then it was me and my sister." She smiled at the old memories still firmly in her mind, every detail just as intact as it was when she experienced it.

"Is this your first year without them?" the diva asked, to which she shrugged, not really wanting to give too much of her history away. Not wanting to tell her that her parents got too busy for her this time of year when she was eight, and that her sister went to college before her eleventh birthday.

"Nah, I've been going alone since I was eleven. I like the solitude, the peace and quiet." She added, earning a happy hum from the other girl beside her, who had taken to walking closer during the moments she was lost in thought.

"Well, I'm honoured to take part in one of your traditions, Santana." Berry said with a bright smile; not one of those fake stage smiles, but a real one. It was a bit strange that Rachel was happy to be spending time with her, but she was kind of glad to have some company for once. It was weird, but nice.

She gave the girl another shrug, not really knowing how to verbally respond to that statement. "It's just nice, with all the lights, the soft snowfall, the streetlamps…the quiet." She smirked at the last item, drawing a blush to Rachel's cheeks as the girl looked immediately apologetic. "It's okay, I know you like to talk and stuff."

Rachel ducked her head a bit, her hair blocking out Santana's view of the girl's face. "Admittedly, I thought you were going to a party."

She scoffed at that, which probably wasn't the best reaction, and she couldn't really blame Berry for thinking it, but still. "I'm pretty sure talking is allowed at parties, Berry. And besides, there aren't any good ones this time of year. And without Q or B here, it's not really worth it for me."

"I…I always loved the idea of being invited to a party." The girl spoke, her voice soft as a whisper, just dripping with sadness, and it wasn't cool, because this was supposed to be a happy, serene outing. Not a sad one.

"No one's invited to parties, Berry, people just show up. And honestly, this is Lima, the parties aren't anything special. People get drunk, they get sloppy, there's the occasional fight and vomiting, and if you're remotely good looking, people will grope you." Santana explained tiredly, thinking that Rachel was halfway through her senior year, she really should have known all of that at that point. "Unless you go into a party with a friend to watch your back, or unless you go there to get plastered and forget the night ahead, it's not worth it."

Rachel was quiet for nearly a minute before the diva continued the predictably unfinished conversation. "I probably wouldn't need anyone to watch my back." Santana shook her head at the girl's defeated tone, deciphering exactly what was going on.

"Berry, stop fishing for compliments. You know just as well as I do that if you went to a party, and Britt was there, she at the very least would feel you up all the time. Sure, maybe she'd also try to fit you in one of the kitchen cabinets or the pantry, but she'd do a lot of groping. You have legs for days, and you should own that." She spoke flatly, hoping that Berry would be dissuaded from trying such a transparent attempt at bolstering her self esteem again. Because yeah, she liked teasing the girl about her height and how crazy her morning and night regimens were, but the girl wasn't hideous. She was actually attractive enough, it was just her wild personality that tended to have people shying away from her. Well, that and the animal sweaters. And the excess argyle.

Of course, Rachel gasped at her words, which Santana supposed wasn't entirely unexpected. "Santana! My body isn't there to be ogled, if you have something nice to say about me, please…" Santana had endured enough of the girl's rants to know this would likely be a rather extensive one, so she put a stop to it, tactically placing a single finger on the girl's lips.

"I've had gym classes with you since, like, sixth grade. When everyone's running around in shorts and going through growth spurts…however rare they are for some people…you get to noticing things. And with you, it's like the only part that grew were your legs, so I'm just saying, you have them. Clearly, you're aware, or else you wouldn't be wearing all of those short skirts at school…you own it there, so own them here. Don't treat me like I'm blind or an idiot." Santana explained, lifting her finger from Berry's lips at the end before turning and slowly heading into a nearby park.

Surprisingly, Rachel silently followed alongside her, both moving slowly through the park she and Britt visited often to see the ducks. The tiny little birds were always the blonde's favourite part of the place, but Santana enjoyed the light fixtures atop the tall, black iron posts. They gave the park a nice, soft pale golden lighting and made everything more tranquil, especially in the winter. It was where she'd go whenever she needed to relax, because the park always seemed to calm her down and help her process things that got jumbled around in her head.

After a while, maybe around the two hour mark, Santana noticed that Rachel was shivering something serious beside her. She let it go for a few minutes, expecting the diva to say something about it, but the girl remained uncharacteristically quiet. It was just kind of absurd to think, seeing how absolutely bundled up Rachel was, that the girl could be remotely cold. "You want to head back now?" she asked quietly, nudging the diva a little to grab her attention.

Rachel surprisingly just shook her head. "I'm f…fine. Thank you." Rachel stammered out, her teeth actually chattering as her jaw was shaking uncontrollably. It was bafflingly stupid that the girl thought she could hide how frigidly cold she was. At the same time, it was also kind of endearing, if she ran on the assumption that Rachel was only saying that because she didn't want to cut Santana's tradition short.

"No, you're not fine. You don't need to lie to me, stop being dumb." She sighed, refraining from rolling her eyes at the tiny diva's stubbornness.

"No n…need for insults. I just…I ran out of tea." The girl mumbled sheepishly, and fair enough. Santana had been sipping away at the hot chocolate, enjoying it and savouring it over the long haul. But she was still warm either way; her body was something of a furnace, so she took Rachel's thermos from her shaking hands and replaced it with her own.

"There's still half left, you can have the rest." She noted, hoping it would help warm the diva up a bit. Rachel gave her a thankful smile and proceeded to chug the damn thing until it was empty, defeating the whole purpose of giving her the drink.

So she laughed, because seriously, Berry was obviously desperate enough for warmth that her brain cells decided to just freak out and lose all impulse control. "Okay, wow. You were supposed to sip it and get warm that way, not down it in one go, cupcake." The now-familiar term of endearment just slipped out, mostly because it was hilarious and held so much teasing potential, but also because Berry looked kind of cute right then, all sheepish and blushing. Knowing that she would be warm enough anyways, Santana unraveled her scarf and wrapped it around Rachel's face, covering up the bottom half of it. "There we go, let's get you home before I have to explain why you've turned into a Berry popsicle."

They thankfully weren't too far from Rachel's place, maybe a ten minute walk, but she decided that the girl had endured enough of the cold. So she more or less hugged Berry against her side or whatever, because like she said, she didn't want to explain frostbite or anything. And maybe she felt bad for not telling Rachel that she was usually out for like, three or four hours. The diva seemed happy to lean into her, and they quickly made their way back in a fairly comfortable silence.

It was late when they got back, but the Berry men were still up watching some procedural crime show from what she could hear. She slipped her boots off, about to ask them if they could take care of Rachel or whatever, but she saw them totally macking on the couch, unaware of her presence, so she backed away to the foyer where Rachel was. Santana Lopez, after all, was not a cock-block, and while she generally also wasn't one to really look after other people, the sight of Rachel Berry looking absolutely pitiful was apparently enough for her to make an exception. The diva was shaking, and clearly having trouble taking off all the winter clothes she was wrapped in, so Santana finished getting all of her own stuff off first and then helped Rachel finish with hers.

Berry's hands were like fucking ice. It was actually almost painful to touch, and she might have accidentally cursed out loud. And Rachel might have shakily mumbled 'language' between the chattering of her teeth. But basically, Berry was way too cold, so she decided to do what she did that one time Britt got trapped in a snow bank for three hours; quickly, she hugged the girl to her side and ushered her upstairs into Rachel's ensuite.

One hand turned on the bath to what she figured would be a pleasantly warm temperature given the circumstances, while the other worked at stripping Rachel of her clothes. Which predictably earned her a slap on her hand from the diva, who looked a bit perturbed with her. And sure, Santana knew she might have overstepped a boundary, but she wanted to make things right. She knew she didn't have to take care of Rachel, but Berry cared enough about her to accompany her on her annual walk, and she got damned cold because of it, so she wanted to make up for that. It wasn't that big of a thing.

"I'm just trying to help. You had enough trouble taking your jacket off, I figured you'd have some trouble with the more tightly fitting stuff, and you layer like crazy." She noted quietly, which Rachel seemed to accept after a moment, the girl moving to remove her sweater, though she was having some difficulty. She eventually helped strip Rachel down to what she figured the diva could deal with herself, considering how modest the girl was about her sexuality and body, and covered her in the towels that had been over the heating vent. Once the water level was high enough, she tossed in some of the vanilla bubble bath she'd spotted on the shelf, and then turned her back to the girl.

"Thank you, Santana." She heard Berry mumble, the sound of the girl entering the tub was satisfaction enough for one of her rare good deeds, but when she spotted a few other things in the bathroom, she knew that maybe she could go the extra mile just that once. Quickly, she grabbed some of the items while Rachel was distracted, and left the shivering girl to her own devices.

* * *

It had been a weird evening, Rachel would admit. The morning and afternoon had been similar to days before, but the evening had been something of a fresh experience, even if it was a little odd. Sure, she had pestered the cheerleader over their destination a number of times, and perhaps she came to the realization a bit late, but who in their right mind would have predicted that Santana Lopez liked walking around town to look at Christmas lights? It had been entirely baffling, yet it was the truth, and it was a glimpse of who the girl was outside of that very public persona Santana had built for herself. It was intriguing, and she'd felt thrilled for being included in her annual outing and for getting the opportunity to learn more about the girl.

Even weirder was how the last bit of their walk went, although she would also classify it as a very positive event. It wasn't every day that Santana showed anyone but Brittany or Quinn direct kindness, yet there she'd been, freezing cold, and Santana not only noticed, but she cared enough to call off the rest of the walk and get her home. And Santana gave her the rest of her hot chocolate, which she'd accidentally guzzled back in desperation to be warm. Even more surprising, Rachel had also been given the girl's scarf for extra warmth, and Santana had hugged her close. The walk home had officially been really, really, really nice.

But when they got home, things got a little weirder; though Rachel supposed that maybe she should have expected that once she saw the urgency on Santana's face when the girl felt her hands. The cheerleader had practically carried her upstairs and into the bathroom, and started stripping the clothes off of her. Which, if Rachel was to be honest, made her a little warm just to think about, which in itself was a new feeling that she'd surely spend some time thinking about tomorrow. Still, despite the tactless approach, it was clear how much Santana worried about her at that moment, and the level of care the girl showed was entirely surprising. After the initial smack over Santana taking her clothes off without permission, the girl had quietly, in a soft tone she'd never once heard the girl speak in before, asked if removing such and such piece of clothing was okay for each article as they went on. The girl had been so gentle and careful, so sweet in prepping her a bubble bath, that her mind had turned to mush from feeling positively looked after. Sure, the girl's facial expression told a different, more disgruntled story, but Rachel felt that the girl's actions, touches, voice and body language overrode that small detail.

Her bath had been quite enjoyable, and just as she was considering getting out to dry off, her ensuite door opened a crack, just enough for a small, neatly folded pile of laundry to be placed inside before the door closed shut again. Taking that as a signal that it was time to get out, Rachel stepped out onto the bathmat and reached for one of the towels, a smile forming on her face at the incredible warmth of it. _She must have tossed these in the dryer to warm them up…_ she mused, enjoying the sweet gesture as she dried herself off and completed her nightly routine in her pre-heated, cozy bathrobe.

It was late when she exited into her bedroom, meaning her sleep would be cut down by about an hour; it was a little upsetting, but she knew the night had been worth it. Especially when she pulled back her covers and found that her blanket between her comforter and her sheets had been warmed up. It was absolutely puzzling as to why the girl had gone to such lengths, but it didn't keep her from smiling at the fact that she was apparently worth the trouble of making her bed as well, even if it wasn't quite as neat as usual.

Curious, she crept down the hall to the guest room and quietly opened the door. Her eyes adjusted quickly enough, finding a sleeping Santana curled up in bed, surrounded by and hugging the bulky duvet. Silently, she backed out and closed the door, content that the other girl was sleeping peacefully, even if she'd hoped Santana had been awake for questioning, or at least for a quick 'thank you'.

She returned to her warm bed, knowing that if Santana had warmed anything that night, it was her heart. That maybe, she was getting a glimpse at why Brittany had always adored the girl. As she got cozy in her bed, Rachel couldn't help but wonder if maybe she shouldn't keep pushing for more opportunities to keep getting to know the girl they were housing over the holidays.


	4. Chapter 4

_Afternoon of December 21_ _st_

* * *

Rachel found herself in the odd situation of not really knowing what to do with herself. Once again, she'd had an active period with Santana, only for it to be followed by one of hibernation. Well, perhaps a very minor hibernation, as she hadn't seen or heard the girl leave the guest room all morning, and it was already half past noon. Considering when they both had gone to bed the previous night, she couldn't simply chalk it up to a long sleep; it was clear that Santana must have gotten up, but decided it would be better to remain in that room.

So Rachel had busied herself as best as she could; she did chores around the house, worked on glee research, practiced her vocals and dancing once more, and decided to finish up her gift-wrapping. Sure, she identified as Jewish, and was fairly consistent in practicing it, and had only recently observed Hanukkah. However, her dad LeRoy was a Christian, and he was very fond of Christmas, so she worked with that too; the music, carols and gifts were just an added bonus, honestly. Just as she was finishing one of her dad's last gifts, she heard some footsteps upstairs, causing her ears to perk up.

Soon after, Santana strolled down the stairs and into the foyer. Rachel, too curious not to see what was going on, followed suit, peeking her head around the corner to see Santana getting dressed for the inclement weather, car keys spinning around her index finger.

"Where are you going?" she asked politely, hoping she didn't sound too desperate for details, despite truly being a bit desperate for details. She'd been looking forward to spending some time with the girl, and her absence had been felt.

Surprisingly, Santana shot her a small grin as she finished slipping on her coat. "Gonna do some last minute shopping." The girl noted, eyes widening slightly in exaggeration of how much of a trial it was sure to be.

And it made sense; there were only a few days left until Christmas, and Santana had never been the most organized person in the world. In fact, the girl was known to procrastinate a lot in school, which surprised Rachel, considering how good the cheerleader's grades were. Still, if Santana took to academics like she did to glee, then the girl always left just enough time to get things done properly, which Rachel could respect. Not everyone had it in themselves to finish projects weeks ahead of time, some enjoyed the thrill of a deadline.

"Well, good luck out there. Don't get trampled by the barbarian hordes." She said jokingly, giving Santana a small wave. The girl just laughed and waved over her shoulder, closing the front door behind her.

With that out of the way, and likely another empty time block in front of her, she decided some baking was in order. Her fathers, after all, were ravenous that time of the year, though she was certain that she'd end up having to make a second batch of cookies on Christmas Eve anyway in order to ensure that there were some baked goods left in the house on Christmas Day. It wasn't Christmas without her sugar cookies.

And honestly, her good mood from the previous night had carried over, only enhanced by the fact that she had chosen fifty songs to perfect by the time regionals rolled around, and had planned each out in terms of which members to run the song by in order to obtain the best fit possible. And while she knew that most would outright deny her help, it wouldn't hurt to be prepared anyway, given what happened during sectionals in sophomore year. If members actually did ask for help on one of the songs, she couldn't simply wing it and learn as she went, she had to have proper knowledge to guide them with and to help foster their talents.

Rachel had kept her restless mind distracted until mid-afternoon, having made three dozen sugar cookies that were all safely packed away in aluminum canisters, momentarily safe and hidden away from her fathers. Now that she was well ahead of schedule in practically everything she could think of, Rachel decided to head back upstairs to her room in order to figure out something to do _. Honestly, I feel like it's summer break again, I'm so bored…I could always read, but I've read all my books before. And practicing is out of the question because I already practiced too long this morning, and doing any more could potentially strain my voice, which simply wouldn't do._

Just as she was about to step into her room, a niggling reminder of a minor event a few days ago breached her mind, freezing her in place. It was one that she'd nearly forgotten about, though now that it was fresh in her mind, she couldn't help but wonder what exactly had gained Santana's attention so fully on her laptop, and why the girl had needed headphones.

If she were to dream of a possible result, it was that Santana had been doing research like her, choosing songs to prepare with for regionals. Not that it was entirely far-fetched; while Shelby was a wonderful enough co-director, she wasn't the strongest on choreography, and her song selections tended to favour large group numbers with mechanical precision. In addition, the Troubletones' members were for the most part not very creative musically, which Rachel had assumed would be troublesome for the group. Brittany was a lovely dancer and choreographer, but she wasn't very involved in the musical aspects during her time with the New Directions. Mercedes sometimes had the occasional great idea when it came to song selection, but she never put any effort into fleshing it out, adding an original twist to it and making it a reality; her creative modification almost always involved dramatic runs, which sometimes worked, but sometimes just seemed a bit self-indulgent and excessive. Sugar didn't have a musical bone in her body, and the Cheerio recruits were dancers more than anything, which left Santana.

Santana, who once professed that she loved glee, who had the drive to carry a cheerleading squad to a national championship in sophomore year, and who looked to be on the same path this year as well, which would likely give her three championships over her high school career. And Rachel knew the girl could have had four, but she'd given it up for the opportunity to have a major role during a half-time show glee performance. It was something that a lot of people took for granted, but not Rachel; she knew that the girl had told the truth about glee being the best part of her day, and Santana was the only person she could think of that could have possibly wrangled those Troubletones numbers together, likely with some help from Shelby and Brittany.

Besides, while she was certain that Santana would deny it if approached, she'd caught the girl practicing glee numbers a few times in the gym, and thus Rachel could imagine that such practices were fairly regular, as people don't simply practice once or twice. Not really. It already wasn't a secret that Brittany and Mike sometimes brought the girl in to help with choreography for some numbers, and since neither were musically creative, it made sense that Santana helped merge musical aspects with their dancing. It was something that had become a calling card for the Troubletones, as well as nearly every glee number that the two dancers were featured prominently in. In a way, Rachel had come to see the girl as something of a less organized, less technically talented, less polite and less thorough version of herself when it came to leadership and performance capabilities. Which, truly, wasn't an insult by any stretch in Rachel's mind, seeing as she knew she was the best Lima had to offer, and likely the best Ohio had to offer as well.

So she sneaked down the hallway, peeking into Santana's room out of habit, obviously finding the room empty. Rachel quietly crept into the room, quickly spotting and moving over to the laptop resting at the foot of the bed. She took a deep breath to brace herself before opening Santana's laptop, knowing it was a potentially severe breach of privacy; still, it was a huge relief to find that the session resumed instead of requiring a log-in and password.

Immediately, her eyes bulged at the sight of the girl's desktop. The usual icons were there like My Computer, Recycle Bin, Downloads and whatnot, all crammed along the left side of the screen, above shortcut folders for all of her classes from the previous semester. On the right hand of her screen, she had icons for Firefox, Microsoft Word, Skype, VLC, iTunes and something called Songbird all nestled in the top right hand corner, but it was everything that was crammed in the bottom right that had her pulse racing. While most of the programs were absolutely foreign to her, their names and icons mostly looked musical in nature, like Audacity, Ableton Live, Reason, Garritan Personal Orchestra, and a slew of other program shortcuts all nestled together. To cap it off, there were shortcut folders for 'personal projects', 'glee projects', a 'sample library' and 'mastered copies' all along the bottom of the screen. Any doubt about the girl's musical involvement was nixed, and after quickly covering her tracks and closing the laptop, she found herself back in her room, researching some of the memorably named programs. While she'd really, really wanted to scour the girl's computer and play around, she'd decided that would have been a bit too much of a privacy breach.

But it didn't make much of a difference in the end, as each search result that came up gave a clearer picture of what the girl was doing alone up in the guest room. Rachel wasn't sure whether to laugh at the sheer scale of what the girl had access to, and the fact that no one had noticed in the least, or to give the girl applause for the sheer scale of what she had access to and that no one had suspected a thing, not with Santana's trademark indifferent scowl misleading everyone. It was weird to think that the cheerleader was so into music production, yet the evidence was all there; despite Santana's access to money, she couldn't imagine someone owning so many high quality programs and not getting any use out of them. Suddenly, many of the Troubletones numbers began making sense; Rachel had often wondered how the group had gained backing music for their songs with the jazz band mostly controlled by Mister Schuester. She'd especially wondered how they'd gotten that Adele mash-up together, but she felt that she now had an answer to that question.

And for the first time in a long time, Rachel felt sheer relief over the fact that the Troubletones had merged with the New Directions again. Because, sure, Blaine was a good performer, but the Troubletones had been legitimately scary for a while, at least until their underwhelming sectionals performance. Without the Michael Jackson gimmick and the benefit of having the last time-slot and the flexibility it offered in performance length, Rachel was sure that it would have likely been a much closer call or worse given her own absence. Looking back, it all seemed like a bit of a perfect storm, with Quinn nearly blackmailing Shelby, and Santana still coping with having been forced out of the closet and her abuela's subsequent rejection. The stress from both of their issues could certainly have been the reason or the sub-par set, something she was grateful for, even if she knew the loss had upset that group's girls quite a bit.

_Maybe if I include her into the production aspect of the glee competition numbers, she could not only have a major hand in it all, but also help me spread my hand-selected songs to the rest of the group…her popularity would be nice to have backing me, after all. And it would be nice to see her get some recognition, to shine her own star a bit, even if it is a different type. Still, though…I am curious about that joke song she wrote about Sam. From what Tina told me, it had been surprisingly nuanced, if insensitively focused on one of his more noticeable physical attributes…_ she thought to herself, deciding that ultimately, she just wanted to hear some of the girl's work in order to confirm or deny her fairly well-founded suspicions.

* * *

_Evening of December 21_ _st_

* * *

Santana wasn't quite sure what to do; it was just past seven, and she'd just finished wrapping all of her gifts, something that had taken her nearly an hour despite only having a small handful of gifts to give. It meant a lot to her to make a good impression, mostly because she had a rep to protect, and that was being awesome. There was no way she'd toss out some shoddily wrapped gifts when she could be all classy and perfect and shit.

Anyway, it was mid-evening, and she had a select few options to choose from. Her novel that she'd brought was sitting on the night table, her music projects were waiting for some tweaking on her laptop, the bath was readily available to be held hostage for an hour or so, or she could go downstairs and have what she was certain Rachel would call a 'Berry good evening' with the girl and her fathers. Admittedly, her novel was really interesting, and she loved working on her music, and almost loved relaxing baths as much as music, but more than anything Santana felt a pull for one thing at that time of the year.

Inclusion. It was a nifty little concept that usually didn't mean a hell of a lot to her, as she rarely ever had issues being included in things. She was always invited to parties, and certainly hosted plenty of her own. She was the captain of the Cheerios and was always among the first selected in gym when teams were being chosen, she was in glee, and she was constantly hand-picked to tutor younger high-schoolers in subjects, among other shit.

But times of the year when families were supposed to be together, creating memories, laughing and just being happy in each others' presence, those were foreign to her. She didn't have that; her parents' anniversary was a few days before Christmas, and ever since she turned eight, she'd been without them during most or all of the holiday season. And she'd spend that time mostly alone ever since her sister left when she was ten. Her neighbours would call daily to see if she needed anything, so there was at least that. And sure, Camilla still called her for a few minutes on Christmas Day, but it just wasn't the same. And she used to get occasional brief visits from her aunt and cousins once every few years, but ever since she came out and her abuela disapproved, that side of the family had vowed to stop visiting, which was mostly why she was at the Berrys this year. Sometimes Quinn would be able to come over Christmas night for a few hours, and the rare time that Britt didn't leave the country or state, the blonde would spare a few hours. But for the most part, she'd been conditioned to know that the holiday season meant a distinct amount of loneliness, and it often spurred internal debates about her sole tradition. Santana was often left wondering if she was some weirdo masochist for forcing herself to endure seeing all the happy families with their lights and decorations, often spending the walk trying to remember what it was like back when she was young enough for her parents to care about staying home with her. Now, they always made the excuse about the conference in Colorado, which would always turn into some long vacation, but she would have preferred if they just said it was all a vacation. They could at least be honest now that she was old enough to know better.

Because really, she knew Hiram Berry didn't go to that conference, just like how she was pretty damn sure her parents didn't either. Not that she wanted to give the impression that her parents were neglectful, because they did come home often, and they were around most days. It's just that during the school-year, when Santana was busy, her parents would be close by, while during her summer and winter breaks, the pair would get away for some private time. So she saw them often, but they'd be too tired to do much, or too busy doing take-home work from their jobs to focus all that much on her.

But still, she could remember what it was like when they were a real family, or at least a more closely knit one. And while she felt like a goddamned imposter and an intruder, being around the Berrys reminded her of those days. They reminded her of what she wanted to have, and what she didn't. Having it, even if it was just for a dozen or so days, was like a double edged sword in that it was a lovely feeling to finally be included and be able to do normal things with people during the holidays. Yet, the more attached she got to those experiences, the more it hurt to remember that in a few days, she'd lose it. That it was all an illusion, never meant to last.

Which was a big reason why she had mostly hid away upstairs the night of the sixteenth, all of the seventeenth and nineteenth, and most of the twentieth. Not the only reason, certainly, but a big one. It was a lot easier for Santana to pretend she was alone and deal with that familiar heartache than to risk heartbreak; it was one of those bend but don't break situations, except that she was paranoid her break threshold was a lot lower than she hoped. _Still, I'm gonna be alone after grad, and I'm not sure when I'll have this kind of chance again to feel like I'm part of something this time of the year. I've spent so many years just sitting around the house by myself in the winter, maybe letting all this build into this natural crash isn't the worst thing that could happen…maybe it'll hurt, yeah, but I might get some more memories out of it, right? Some good ones, even? Something to look back on in future Christmases if I'm having a shitty time…_

Her mind made up, even if she was still a bit anxious, Santana made her way downstairs to the living room, pausing in the entrance-way. Rachel's eyes quickly found hers, and the diva softly patted the space beside her, smiling this ridiculously hopeful smile that more or less eviscerated what anxiety she'd held before. Sure, there was ample space beside LeRoy, who had been totally cool to her through her entire stay, which had been a major surprise, but she was a bit too curious about sitting beside Berry. Adults were alright, but she kind of missed hanging out with someone her age, and the winter break was a little long that year, making it all that more important. _Not that Berry's my friend right now or whatever, but maybe something close? Yeah…I think that makes enough sense…_ she mused as she crossed the floor and slipped in between the diva and the armrest.

They were clearly watching yet another crime-based procedural drama, and it had just started, so she tried to soak in as many details as possible in order to make up for what she'd missed. She allowed herself a brief flicker of a smile, recalling that Quinn wanted to write that sort of stuff for a living. Prudish, terrified-of-horror-movies, gets-faint-at-the-sign-or-mention-of-blood, good Christian girl Quinn Fabray, writer of dark, gruesome crime procedurals. Absolutely ridiculous, but Santana knew that if it was what Quinn wanted out of her life, then she'd totes support the blonde.

And maybe that brief smile returned when Rachel leaned against her just a little bit, because she was seriously cozy between the armrest and the diva. However, when she went to reposition herself to get even more comfortable, she accidentally grazed the girl's hand, almost recoiling wildly due to how cold it was. _Seriously, Berry has to have, like, the worst circulation ever! No wonder she's always so hyper, she's probably always on the move to get her blood flowing to her fingers and toes and shit so they don't fall off…_

Deciding to once again take some damn initiative, because no one should honestly just sit there with hands that were legitimately freezing, Santana grabbed the thick blanket resting on the nearby recliner; it took a good amount of stretching, but she was able to take hold of it and pull it over the both of them. Which drew a quiet 'Thanks' from the diva, too focused on the show to realize her hands were sculpted from ice, and Santana didn't want some frozen ass body leaning all up on her, so she did what any sane person would. She started 'Operation: Warm Rachel the Fuck Up', the first step involving putting the diva's closest hand between Santana's thighs, obviously not too far up, because this wasn't about being risqué or anything wanky like that.

And as if she flipped a switch, the diva's attention went from being fully on the show to fully on her, which was alright, because Berry needed to understand some simple methods to keep her hands from feeling like a zombie's, and if she had to model some basic techniques, she would. Continuing her efforts, she snaked an arm around Rachel's waist and took the remaining icy hand in both of her own, hugging it against the girl's torso, which was obviously warmer than her frozen extremities. Rachel wriggled around a bit in her grasp, which she totally understood, because it wasn't the most comfortable position, but it was comfy enough, and Berry leaning further into her only confirmed that. When all was said and done, they'd maybe missed a brief minute or two of the show, so it didn't take much to catch up.

And when she realized they were doing a marathon, well, that was more than okay, because her schedule was totes free, and she was feeling kind of exceptionally okay at the moment. Besides, she liked that the family had a thing for those type of shows, and imagined it was a regular thing for them, which only helped her feel a little more included due to the fact that they hadn't kicked her out or anything. Not that she expected that to happen, as they were all way too nice, but seriously, they all seemed okay with her there, which meant a lot.

By the midpoint of the second episode, Santana realized a few things; Rachel was getting cozy and was no longer cold at all, and everyone was starting to get pretty sleepy except her. Santana unearthed Rachel's hand between her thighs and nestled herself further into the armrest, letting Rachel, who was seriously nodding off, use her as a cushion of sorts. Because, hey, that was a lot better than Berry waking up with a crick in her neck from having her head angled in an awkward position with minimal support, and complaining all tomorrow about it. Near the end of the episode, she reflected on the fact that she was basically laying down with Rachel on top of her, one arm holding the diva closely against her; mostly she was too comfy to care, and the Berry men didn't seem to mind one bit, which meant she totally shouldn't care at all either. Besides, Santana did that shit with Q and B all the time over the years, and it was never a big deal, so it obviously wasn't one with Berry, right? Right.

So she just rested there, watching the rest of the marathon of shows until LeRoy came over and woke Rachel up, helping usher the sleepy girl upstairs. Which, really, was a good sign that she should probably sleep as well, because it WAS getting late, and the warmth Rachel had leeched off of her had made her a bit sleepy as well. Unlike Rachel, her nightly routine was pretty simple, and she soon found herself in her bed, zonking out quickly with a tiny, barely noticeable smile on her face.


	5. Chapter 5

_Afternoon of December 22_ _nd_

* * *

Rachel had woken that morning with a number of clear thoughts floating in her mind. The first was that she definitely had not completed her full night-time routine, and she could feel it. It was almost as if she'd done the bare minimum, and that was unacceptable, no matter how tired she'd been. The second thing was that she felt surprisingly refreshed despite having gone to bed a little past midnight. The third thought, which was tied to the second one, was that Santana Lopez was both incredibly warm and a considerate cuddler who apparently had no qualms about placing a friend's hands in potentially intimate areas in order to improve their comfort. Honestly, Rachel never would have thought Santana would ever place her hand there, yet it had happened, and she'd fallen asleep around ten thirty, and still managed to get between seven and eight hours of sleep because Santana had been a very comfortable pillow. A warm, cuddly, live person pillow. Yet, a pillow in the form of one of her foremost tormenters from past years, a girl who had been distinctly avoidant of her at best ever since joining glee. Sure, being ignored and avoided was better than being tormented, but for someone like Rachel who needed applause and attention to live, it wasn't all that much better.

What was better was learning Santana was okay with her being remotely affectionate. It was more or less baffling that all it took was her leaning on the cheerleader ever so slightly to get that insider information; once more, Rachel couldn't help but feel her small risks were really paying off. Though as she was nearing her house, just completing the tail end of her jogging route, she had a hard time thinking up other ways to bring the other girl out of her shell a bit more.

Of course, her fathers would tell her that jogging in the cold freezes her mind, but she enjoyed the fresh air every once in a while, and it had called to her that morning. The weather was nice as well for a change, though it was supposed to be on and off storms until just past Christmas, going forward. There certainly wasn't anything wrong with taking advantage of warm sunlight and clear skies.

She stopped inside in the foyer, stripping herself of her shoes and her winter running gear before jogging upstairs to the thankfully vacant bathroom. As she neared the doorway, she spotted Santana pop her head out of the guest room from the corner of her eye.

"Did you really just go running outside in the middle of winter when you have an elliptical in your room?" the girl asked, offering her a confused look as she seemed to have incredible difficulty fathoming why anyone would do such a thing.

"There's no substitute for fresh air, Santana." She noted with a smile, wondering if maybe the other girl could one day join her on her runs. Perhaps in warmer weather, not that she thought Santana had much issue with the cold, given the girl's ridiculous body heat and love of long wintery walks.

Santana only shrugged a little. "Well, have a nice hot shower, Berry, so you don't almost freeze to death again." Santana said with a hint of concern, dipping back into the guest room and out of sight.

Now, Rachel probably could have left it alone, but she decided to take the opportunity at hand to try and draw Santana out. Mostly because that hint of concern was intriguing, and she figured that if she tried to be a little more playful with the girl, that it would help their potentially blossoming friendship. "You know, you've been really trying to get me all warm lately. Should I be reading anything into that?"

The airy laughter sounded like a victory, and soon Santana walked out into the hallway with her trademark smirk on her face, shaking her head ever so subtly. The girl's eyes were alight with amusement and something else that Rachel didn't dare define. "Now now, Berry, I just get concerned about your circulation. But you don't have to worry when I'm around…I know how to get people's blood flowing to important areas." Santana purred, walking deep into her personal space, the girl's unyielding gaze only perhaps leaving her own when the cheerleader leaned her head beside Rachel's ear. "Or maybe you just want me to lick you like a berry flavoured popsicle."

Rachel audibly gulped at the sheer sultriness in Santana's vocal delivery, knowing full well it was an act logically, but her body wasn't so convinced by how it was reacting. Maybe she didn't need that warm of a shower after all. Maybe she hadn't been victorious at all, unless she considered Santana teasing her into oblivion a victory.

Santana stepped back, and Rachel expected the girl's amusement to be fully obvious, but the pure heated appraisal coming from her houseguest had her sweating. Again, logically, she knew it was an act, but she couldn't help but freeze in shock at the foreign form of attention. _If this is even a fraction of what it feels like to be…to be lusted over and wanted, then…jeepers…_

"I bet you'd melt in my mouth, too…" Santana continued, Rachel using a hand to hold onto the nearby door handle so her legs wouldn't buckle out from under her.

And then just like that, Santana was sauntering off back to the guest bedroom, laughing lightly to herself, leaving her entirely flustered at the bathroom doorway. _I…suppose if I'm going to try and flirt with Santana a little, I really should try harder and be more prepared…_ she thought to herself, a little embarrassed and impressed that the girl had gotten her blood pumping throughout her entire body better than the run had. _Maybe a lukewarm shower would be best. Or a pleasantly cool one._

* * *

 _Afternoon of December 23_ _rd_

* * *

Santana found herself downstairs in the kitchen, one of the few rooms she frequented in the home. The actual residents of the home had been gone since early morning, doing some Jewish temple business or something, so she'd taken it upon herself to do something kind of nice. Well, something nice with small laptop-related breaks in between, at least. Ever since she'd been housed there, she'd been freeloading by both eating food the family paid for, and not making anything for them in return, so she'd made a decision. It was why she was in the kitchen fiddling with one of her music projects on her laptop, the groceries she'd bought lining half the counter space because she'd forgotten to write down what foods were vegan before she went shopping, and just figured buying excess would be okay. Santana was pretty sure no one refused free food, and that they would maybe be too polite to refuse a free dinner.

Besides, a lot of what she'd bought were ingredients she'd seen the family use during her stay, and anything on the laminated allergy list by the pantry had been tossed away already. So she was feeling pretty good, and she'd kept busy throughout the day as well with all her semi-hard work. It was a nice change of pace, although she couldn't honestly feel down on herself given that she'd surprisingly had some really great music ideas lately, which almost never happened during the holidays. It was nice to feel inspired a bit, even if it also kind of sucked being a hermit and everything.

Santana knew she'd been pretty quiet during her stay; she'd interacted with the family a little, sure, but she mostly kept to herself. And really, it was nice that the Berrys gave her that space without protest, even if she didn't really WANT that space. Honestly, she just wasn't used to having the option, and her mind kept looking for the usual default setting of loneliness, so in a way, she did want them to reach out a bit. Except she also knew that maybe they weren't because they didn't want her there, not really.

It wasn't something she liked thinking about, so food prep had helped keep her distracted from those thought processes, mostly. But in reality, she knew that her hopes didn't really mean much, and the Berry family would do what they wanted; if they didn't want Santana to be part of their holiday stuff and hangouts, then that was their call, right? She WAS dumped on them, after all, and she WAS intruding, and that was the reality she existed in. One she was trying to fight a bit by making dinner for them, making some sort of effort to show she was thankful for their hospitality or whatever.

Ultimately, she'd decided on a few food-related things to keep her busy, because her projects only required tweaking at that point, and that was tedious shit, and she got bored of it pretty quickly. Mastering just didn't have the glitz and glamour of the writing process, after all.

First, she knew that salads were safe, the family having something resembling one for nearly every other meal, so that had been her staple for the meal. It was easy enough to prep, and was sitting in the fridge marinating in her homemade light dressing for just over an hour. Her second part, the main course, was pizza. They had enjoyed casseroles, salads, pasta, burgers, and a slew of other sorts of meals, so Santana figured that pizza was safe, and she knew how to make them well enough. Quinn had gone through something of a pizza craving phase during her pregnancy, so she'd helped out by making the damn things, and had gotten a good method for pizza crust down with the help of her stupidly heavy pizza stone. She'd had the dough in the fridge since mid-morning, and it was nearly time to start chopping it up and rolling it out.

However, it still needed about twenty minutes more in the fridge, which gave her a large enough block of time to consider prepping a dessert. Because really, Rachel shouldn't be the only one baking; her fathers were like endless pits for baked goods, and it didn't seem like a battle one should take on alone. _Besides, if I make shit of my own, maybe they'll dig into my stuff and leave me some of Rachel's sugar cookies if she decides to do another batch…_ she thought to herself, sighing at the fact that the Berry men had eaten all but five of the three dozen sugar cookies already, Rachel having had two while Santana enjoyed three. The things really were addictive, so she didn't blame the guys that much, but she figured if she could help AND have more tasty food available, then it was a win-win.

Not really feeling like chocolate, she decided to use some of the more overstocked ingredients in the house and make a cinnamon roll sort of cake. It wasn't something she normally made, but she'd done it twice before; it only took a few minutes online to find whatever modifications she needed to make it vegan, figuring it was worth a shot. It didn't take all that long to toss together, and soon she was back to reworking the intro of one of her original pieces.

It was almost comical how, as Santana was just grabbing the finished cake out of the oven, the sound of the front door opening filled the home. Santana gave a brief glance at the clock on the oven, noticing they were home almost an hour early. Instantly, she wasn't sure what to do; the cake was in her hands and needed to be placed somewhere that wasn't her palms, because that shit was hot, and her laptop was wide open with her project in plain view. It wasn't that she was embarrassed or insecure about her hobby, she just didn't want Berry or anyone else on her ass about helping with backing music or whatever. Rachel knowing that Santana Lopez was behind nearly all the backing tracks used in their competitions when the band wasn't there, and certainly most of the arrangements when they were, was simply dangerous.

As swiftly as she could manage, she pivoted and placed the cake pan down on the island counter and fumbled to remove her oven mitts just as Rachel practically bounced into the kitchen, all wide-eyed and smiling. As subtly as she could manage, she alt-tabbed to the salad recipe and then returned to the cake, spreading the cinnamon icing over it.

"It smells so tasty in here." The diva noted cheerfully, humming contentedly as she deeply inhaled the room's strange bouquet scents. Well, Santana thought it was mostly a strange mixture, but Berry didn't seem put off at all. "You didn't have to do all of this, you know."

Santana shrugged, trying not to show that she really appreciated the girl's remark. "I wanted to. I've been here for a week, and with everyone gone for the day, I figured I'd make dinner for when you get back. But…you're early, so the pizzas aren't in the oven yet." She explained, drawing a reassuring smile from the smaller girl; Santana felt a bit odd that she hadn't found Berry at all off-putting lately, but she couldn't find it in herself to care. Especially after the hilarity of the previous day when Rachel actually tried to flirt with her, which was just too ridiculous of an opportunity to pass up. _Though the way she reacted…that was kind of interesting. Can honestly say I expected her to give me a speech instead of getting all flustered…and the good kind of flustered, not the upset kind…I mean, I'm pretty sure her knees weren't shaking from the cold or from running, and she didn't give me that face that she does when she's annoyed or frustrated. She just…bit her lip and her eyes looked a little bigger, and she was breathing erratically…interesting stuff…_

"It's not a big deal at all, Santana. We're definitely a little earlier than usual." Rachel stated, before her fathers walked into the room and immediately bee-lined it for the cake, distracting the diva momentarily.

Santana, though, had predicted the reaction, and stepped in front of the freshly baked dessert with a spatula in her hand and a smirk on her lips. The men weren't so easily deterred, both trying to sneak a peek over her shoulder. "Nuh uh, Berry men… you can have a slice for dessert when you've eaten all your veggies." It was nice to be able to tease them, and even nicer hearing Rachel laugh at her remark before shooing the men away into the living room.

"They're so easily seduced by baked goods. Sometimes I think they love them more than they love me." The girl joked, taking up residence on a stool by the island, giving the diva a good view of Santana's food-prep space. "They've been whining about the lack of sugar cookies all day long, even though I most certainly told them to pace themselves, and that it was their own fault."

Santana laughed at the idea of two grown men being pitiful about Rachel's cookies. Then again, they really were pretty amazing. "Yeah, well, they can wait for more cookies. Make them sweat, Rach." She noted, pulling out her pizza stone and shoving it into the oven, upping the preheat temperature to five twenty-five. Santana knew it would take a while to preheat fully. "And I think they just might have a baked goods fetish, cupcake." She finished, emphasizing the term of endearment, one that had Rachel blushing profusely. It was a bit weird, because her fathers called her it all the time and the girl was always cute about it and didn't bat an eyelash, but on both occasions she'd said it, Berry looked like her head was about to explode from the blood pressure. Like the reactions to her flirting yesterday, she chalked it up as a curious bit of information before pulling the dough out of the fridge and placing it on the cutting board. She could think about the implications of Rachel's reactions later that night, perhaps, when she didn't have the girl in the same room as her.

Berry was surprisingly silent as she cut up and rolled out the dough, though she could sense the diva's eyes on her. It was just one of those feelings, like her psychic Mexican third eye kicking in. Santana continued her work long enough for her to be satisfied with the dough and the sauce before she turned to Rachel. "Hey, you want to help place some of the toppings?" she asked, wondering why the girl was just sitting there, watching her, when there were far more interesting things to do in the meantime.

Rachel ducked her head shyly, her bangs unfortunately falling to obscure her eyes. "I wouldn't want to get in the way."

Which was a stupid thing to say, in Santana's mind. Because there was no way Berry would get in the way if she asked her to help, right? Besides, it was the girl's house, the whole concept of getting in the way didn't apply to the diva there. So she snapped her fingers, gaining the girl's attention enough to wave her over. "Come on, I'm putting yours in first, so you can load it up with whatever you want. Let me feed you for once."

Rachel slid off the stool and padded over to the counter, standing fairly close to Santana. While Berry used freaking tongs to place her toppings on her pizza, Santana got to rolling out a second one, pausing for a moment as she decided whether or not to ask the question on her mind. Ultimately, curiosity won out. "So…I know your dads aren't strictly vegan or anything, so are you, like, comfortable with me prepping some pizza with meat and organic cheese and stuff?" It had been floating around her mind ever since she'd decided to make pizzas for dinner that morning, but only now did she have the chance to get a straight answer.

"Of course." Rachel noted, her tone laced with confusion as she turned her head to face Santana with a questioning expression, the girl seeming a little baffled. "I myself am vegan, so I won't handle animal products, and I will talk about my ethical views on the matter at times, but I won't enforce my will and standards on others, no matter how I feel about the matter."

Santana nodded at the very Rachel-Berry-esque explanation, deciding she could deal with that. "So it'd be cool if I ate some meat, then?"

Once more, Rachel gave her a puzzled look, the girl taking a moment to appraise Santana, likely in an attempt to discern some hidden meaning. "Of course, why wouldn't it be?" Which was something of a weird question, because Berry was super vocal on that kind of stuff, and she hadn't wanted to disrespect the girl or anything. Santana thought that much was clear, but apparently not.

"I just didn't want to disrespect you or anything while I was here…it's why I've only eaten vegan stuff since I was dropped off." She explained, and it was true; she missed meat desperately, and being able to have some old-fashioned pizza had seemed like a magical food vacation.

Rachel's stunned confusion ever so slowly slipped into a crooked grin of disbelief, the girl's eyes seeming to get a tiny bit brighter as the diva just held her gaze. "That's…really, really sweet of you, Santana, but if you want to have some non-vegan food, I won't be upset."

She nodded and started adding her toppings and everything, not really sure how to salvage her rep at the moment, because it was incredibly rare for anyone to call her sweet. It kind of had her really confused and off her game a bit, otherwise she would have retorted with some statement to reaffirm her badass persona. For what it was worth, the meat she bought was free range and not roided up or whatever; it wasn't that she cared a lot, she just wanted to at least continue whatever anti-animal cruelty theme the house seemed to somewhat hold. It wasn't like she was BFFs with the diva or anything, she just didn't want to have an issue at the table and be all embarrassed or feel bad. Or worse, make THEM feel bad while they were trapped hosting her and all.

"I appreciate your concern, Santana. I've just learned to live with the fact that most people in the world aren't vegan." Rachel added after a few minutes of silence, the girl just finishing her pizza, looking it over for some reason. Santana nodded and just finished with her own pizza, adding 'ethically farmed' sausage as well as some real mozzarella alongside the leftover veggies she'd chopped up earlier.

Once she finished hers, she used the remaining dough to make a larger pizza for the Berry men, both Santana and Rachel loading it up with toppings as the pizza stone was heating up. "Have you kept busy today, Santana?"

It was strange, the way Rachel always used her name when addressing her. Sure, it was probably just politeness and habit, but it didn't sound too bad coming from Berry's lips. She really could be hanging out with much worse company. "I do my best…did some shopping and prepped food obviously, and I screwed around a bit online here and there."

From the corner of her eye, she could see Rachel playing with the hem of her sweater, a clear sign that the girl was nervous. "What was on the laptop screen when I came in?" the girl asked, sounding every bit as anxious and hesitant as she looked. It wasn't an entirely uncommon look for the girl, but it was usually over more important things. Still, she couldn't help but freeze up for a moment, something Rachel noticed. "You were just so eager to hide it, and I'm sorry for being curious, sometimes I just let it get the best of me, and I'm sure it's nothing bad or anything, certainly not as bad as badgering you about a potentially private matter of yours, and…"

"It's okay or whatever." She said, interrupting the diva who had been in something of a conversational tailspin; Berry was getting more flustered by the second, and she honestly didn't want the girl to, like, implode or anything. Besides, Rachel seemed to know that maybe she overstepped her bounds or whatever, and that meant something. "I was just working on a project."

"A project?" Berry asked softly, her eyes wide and hopeful for more details, and before she could think, words were flowing out her mouth.

"Yeah, a project, like…you know you have your ridiculously big binder with the colour-coded sections for all the little projects you have on the go. I just use a laptop instead, it's more portable." She explained, hoping it would help the diva understand a bit better.

However, the mere mention of the binder had that familiar blush returning to the girl's cheeks. "I like keeping busy and…and I always have ideas, especially for glee."

She nodded at the admission, which was more or less common knowledge to anyone at McKinley. Santana wasn't sure why it caused the girl to blush, because she wasn't, like, teasing Rachel or anything. "It's why you're glee's captain."

"Co-captain." Rachel noted hastily in an attempt to correct her, but Santana really didn't think it was worth correcting. Not in the least.

She rolled her eyes at the smaller girl, crossing her arms across her chest. "You're the captain, Finn barely does anything." She spoke, using her best 'Cheerios Captain' voice in hopes to convince the girl; while she wasn't as good as Quinn at it, she did have a history of occasionally using the right words to 'fix' people's opinions. So when Rachel went to defend her previous statement, Santana shot the girl a pointed look, temporarily rendering her silent. "I know he has the title, but all he does is hate on Warbler lately, and that's not enough to earn it. Meanwhile, you're always crazy prepared and organized for Schue's inevitable last minute moments of failure…you always have choreography and songs ready. Maybe they don't fit everyone perfectly, but they're usually easy enough to adapt to, and we all kind of rely on you coming through in the clutch more often than not."

Rachel was speechless for a few seconds before she coughed into a closed fist and nodded, clearly trying to hold back one of her trademark smiles. "Yes, well, it's important we not make fools of ourselves on stage." The girl noted shyly, to which Santana nodded in agreement. She loathed looking like an idiot in public. It's why she was ruthless in her drive to win whenever there were public performances and reputation on the line. "Anyway, that covers my spectrum of projects…what have you been working on?"

Santana avoided the smaller girl's curious gaze for a few seconds, taking the time to slip Rachel's pizza into the oven. "Just personal stuff, really." She said flatly, regretting her choice of words as soon as she saw how Berry's face had fallen just ever so slightly in disappointment. And fuck if she didn't feel a little guilty about it, because Berry had been all curious and interested, and was super nervous, and Santana had just shut her down like an ice-cold bitch. And while she wouldn't care about that in most instances, she didn't really like Rachel's reaction. So, in turn, Santana really didn't like what she'd said, so she fought for better words. "Look, I'll show you some other time, alright? I just don't want to burn anything while I'm too busy explaining stuff."

And just like that, Rachel's strained smile blossomed into this absolutely genuinely ecstatic one, the excitement in her eyes palpable. It was kind of absurd, but whatever, Berry was never one to not overreact. But seriously, no one should have been that excited over something like a personal project, which for all Berry knew could be quilting patterns or whatever. Or maybe, like, designs for macaroni art, or a 3D model library of personally designed sex-toys or something. As far as Rachel probably knew, anything was possible, which generally meant the girl should have been a bit cautious given that most hobbies people were secretive of were secrets for legitimate reasons. Either way, it was odd for the girl to be over the moon about it.

So she mussed Rachel's hair up a little, earning an annoyed huff before Rachel started trying to smooth it all down. It won Santana some time to watch how the food was cooking, and to reflect on what the fuck she was doing. But the latter didn't stick around in her mind for long, quickly replaced by the force of her hunger, only having snacked on grapes throughout the day. Everything seemed to be coming together food-wise, she just hoped the Berry family liked her creations. Everything else could be dealt with later or something.

* * *

 _Evening of December 23_ _rd_

* * *

One could say that Rachel was immensely excited about the fact that Santana hadn't unconditionally turned her away, and that there was a promise that there would come a time where she'd get to see what the girl was working on. Of course, as far as Rachel believed, that time was soon, as in within the next day or two. Her persistence would see to it, she figured.

She'd never liked surprises, after all; or more accurately, she'd never liked surprises when she knew they were coming somewhere down the line. If they were thrust on her unexpectedly, that was usually okay, but being told about a surprise in advance? That was like telling her she had to choose between an all expenses paid vacation to Paris and whatever was in the mystery box. Like Brad Pitt's character in that horribly violent thriller film she forgot the name of, she really would need to know what was in the box. She couldn't handle it. She'd have to know.

So when she came upstairs that night to ask Santana if she wanted to watch X-Factor with them, and saw the girl busy with her laptop and wearing headphones, she almost succumbed to the urge to sneak a peek. After all, Santana hadn't noticed her, it would be very easy. Instead, she walked into the girl's line of sight, standing behind the laptop screen, managing to quickly catch the girl's attention.

Santana slipped her headphones down around her neck and clicked something before looking up at her. "What's up?" It was a simple question, and while she had the urge to ask what Santana was working on, she fought it and instead decided on the simple, appropriate answer.

"I was just wondering if you'd like to watch X-Factor with my fathers and I." she replied, to which Santana quirked her head to the side slightly, visibly thinking it over. It was odd to see the girl so transparent when she was usually so closed off.

Eventually, the girl's gaze met Rachel's, a slightly apologetic expression marking her face. "I'm kind of on a roll right now."

Rachel understood completely; sometimes her fathers would call her for dinner in the middle of rehearsing for a song, and she'd feel so close to just perfecting it that she couldn't go downstairs until she'd worked it out. "Would you like a glass of water, or something to eat or drink while you work?" she asked, knowing that sometimes she got thirsty and hungry, but that leaving her working space would ultimately ruin her momentum.

"I'll be okay…and I should be done soon, maybe in a half an hour?" Santana noted with a shrug, her answer sounding good to Rachel. The show wasn't set to start for another ten or so minutes, so they'd probably at least have SOME time. She nodded and turned toward the door, but Santana's voice stopped her at the doorframe. She turned to see Santana with her headphones back on, looking just a little bit nervous. Which, most likely, meant that the girl was very nervous; the idea of Santana letting herself be a little vulnerable with her had a warm sensation blooming in her chest. One she couldn't quite define yet, so she just decided to accept and enjoy it.

"You should check your email sometime." The girl added quietly, before focusing intently back on her laptop screen.

Santana's words rang through her head for a moment before her body could process them. The first thing that crossed her mind was that she didn't know Santana had known her email address. Sure, she'd handed it out in sophomore year once she was elected co-captain, but Rachel certainly hadn't expected the cheerleader to have kept it. The second was that Santana had sent her something, or would send her something, which was yet another 'eventual surprise' issue that had her vibrating with anticipation. "I will. Good luck with your work, Santana."

With that, she quickly ventured to her room, grabbing her phone off her night-table, before finding her way back to the living room. She told her fathers the girl would be down once she was finished her work, which drew a curious look from Hiram, but soon enough all three were sitting there in silence, watching the show. It wasn't quite the same without Santana there, but she still had her fathers, so she could cope. There was no reason NOT to be able to cope, after all. It would have been patently overdramatic to sigh in discontent and yearning due to the girl's absence, after all. Even if she was rather comfy.

At the first commercial break, Rachel pulled out her phone and rushed to log into her email, spotting an unread message from 'Snixceptionallyh0t69', which obviously had to be Santana, given the ludicrously tasteless name. Feeling anxious, she opened it to find the phrase ' _Stop me if you think that you've heard this one before…_ ' as the sole contents outside of two attached files, one a WAV and one a RAR. Rachel took a moment to appreciate the Smiths reference and went to open the WAV file, not bothering with the RAR as her phone couldn't open it.

Everything seemed to stop around her as the familiar sound of the backing track from 'Get It Right' filled the room through her phone's marginally capable speakers. From the corner of her eye, she could see her fathers looking at the device in confusion as well.

"Where's your voice?" she heard her daddy Hiram ask once the track surpassed the point where she'd usually take the cue to start. Her father's words broke her out of her stupor, a smile growing as she looked over to the pair beside her.

"It's not a recording of the performance, it's the composition I sang on top of." She spoke, her voice stuck in this stunned whisper, her mind racing over whether or not to ditch the show in favour of listening to the piece on her room's sound system. Or tackling Santana into a hug. Or tackling Santana and hauling the girl into her room so that she could hug the girl while listening to the song on her sound system. Or something similar.

LeRoy pulled her into a sideways hug, only widening her smile because it kind of felt like a moment for celebration. "That's wonderful! I know you asked your glee director about it for months, and he refused to give it to you. Glad to see he changed his mind."

"Mister Schuester didn't give it to me…Santana did." She noted quietly, still processing the information. Yes, she'd expected Santana to have helped the jazz band in some form, but she truly hadn't expected the girl to have put together the music for her original song. The one she was most proud of out of all of her works. One that Santana had stealthily collaborated with her on and helped elevate to a regionals winning performance through the sheer atmosphere of the piece. It had managed to force her right back into that moment of pain and uncertainty, yet also played on the hope she had, and the courage she'd felt for penning it and singing it publicly. The music had spoken to her that night like a vivid memory, and she'd desperately hounded Mr. Schuester for the piece, but he'd turned her away each time. Now that she had it, Rachel felt like she was on cloud nine.

"Why would she have a copy of it?" LeRoy asked, which was a fair question, but Hiram answered before Rachel could collect the right words.

"Mariano was always going on about both of his children's musical abilities. I knew Santana's older sister Camilla was talented from all the photos and recordings he'd show me from her cello recitals, but he never really brought up Santana's achievements at work unless it was her cheerleading victories. I always just assumed she wasn't as into music, but maybe she took a different interest." Hiram said thoughtfully, Rachel nodding at his words as she took in the new information. It was a bit of a surprise to hear, but she knew that singing competitions weren't the only public musical performances in the state. However, it had her wondering if maybe Santana wasn't trained in an instrument as well, given her sister's aptitude and the fact that the cheerleader's voice wasn't trained to technical perfection like her own. Ultimately, it was nice to know that Santana's father recognized his daughter's talents, even if he wasn't publicly gushing about them like the girl's older sister.

"Well, that's an interesting revelation." LeRoy mumbled, nodding his head a little as the show returned from commercial.

"If you can both please keep quiet about this, I would greatly appreciate it. She seemed a little nervous when she told me, and I wouldn't want to scare her off." She whispered, hearing some footsteps upstairs.

Her fathers both nodded, Hiram miming as if he were zipping up his lips, which always amused her. Mostly because he was like her, something of a blabbermouth. Santana eventually came downstairs and made her way over to her side of the couch, where Rachel had purposely left space for the girl. Once again, she soon found herself covered in a blanket and cuddling against Santana, feeling happy and comfortable. A position that her fathers seemed eager to take advantage of, sneaking away on a commercial break to grab their third slices of cake, something Santana playfully berated and threatened them about. Rachel, of course, just laughed and nestled in closer to the girl, the both of them verbally tearing down and criticizing the contestants, only giving the occasional compliment wherever warranted. Which mostly consisted of Santana complimenting the production team for cleaning up the vocals; either way, it was a fun time, and it was nice to just be carefree with the girl. _I could really get used to this..._


	6. Chapter 6

_Afternoon of December 24_ _th_

* * *

Christmas Eve came around like any other morning. Santana woke around ten thirty and lazed around in bed, reading her novel until just after noon when she finally willed herself to go downstairs and get some food. There were a few slices of cold, leftover pizza calling her name when she opened the fridge door, so she grabbed those, a small slice of cake, a bowl of fruit, and returned back to her cave for a bit. Seriously tasty shit, even if coach would have had a conniption over the calorie count.

Santana knew that despite how good the novel was, she mostly avoided going downstairs that morning because eventually, Berry would listen to what she sent her, and the girl would unleash a volley of questions that she wasn't sure she was prepared to answer. Sure, it wasn't like she couldn't just say she liked making music or whatever, but Santana was pretty sure that Rachel would be her nosy self and want to know everything. Things like when she started getting into it all, why she did it, if it's her life's passion, what she enjoys the most about it, what each program does and how she uses them, if she plans on going to school for it and if so, which schools. And so forth, etcetera, and whatnot. It would be dangerous without some level of control over the situation, which was why she was trying to figure out some plan of action. Sure, she was failing at it, her mind blanking over possible ways to spin it, but it would work out. Or something. Maybe.

She was just about to bring her dishes downstairs and grab a glass of water when she noticed half of Rachel's head slightly peeking around the edge of the doorframe, a small smile on the diva's face. Now, if almost anyone else were doing that, Santana would have called it creepy as fuck, but she knew Rachel enough to know the girl was feeling curious and mischievous, and was trying to be sneaky. As if a five-foot-nothing blabbermouth diva could be sneaky. Preposterous.

Santana turned her gaze to the girl and lifted an eyebrow in challenge, startling the diva a bit, enough to get the blushing girl to admit she was caught and enter the room. "I was…I was going to ask if you were busy."

She laughed at that and removed her headphones, because it totally didn't look like Rachel wanted to do anything but spy on her just seconds ago. "I was just gonna grab some water. Why?" she asked as she moved off the bed and toward the door.

Rachel straightened her posture and followed Santana out, a sign that the girl was a bit apprehensive. "I was thinking of putting together some basic choreography for a few group numbers I was working on, and I could really use a second pair of eyes." The diva explained as they went downstairs and entered the kitchen.

Santana thought about it, and figured that since she was just fiddling around, she could definitely help out or whatever. Besides, how often did Rachel ask for help on anything music-related? "Yeah, sure. I could make some time." She made it to the sink and filled her cup, Rachel opting for her own Brita bottle in the fridge.

"If you're busy working on something of your own, it's okay. There's certainly no rush, although it would be nice to get some feedback within a fortnight." Rachel noted before taking a sip. Santana almost spilled her cup as laughter erupted from her, because seriously, who in the fuck used words like 'fortnight' in actual sentences? Berry seemed to catch on that she was the source of the laughter and blushed pretty heavily, which only made it worse.

When Santana finally calmed down enough to speak, Rachel was full on pouting in frustration, clearly not finding 'proper use of vocabulary' all that funny. "Seriously…fortnight? What are we, pilgrims?" she asked, earning nothing but an annoyed huff from the diva. "Anyway, it's no big deal, Berry. Schue hasn't been big on original songs and mash-ups lately, so my workload's been pretty light."

She hoped that her words were enough to confirm her part in some compositions, while assuring the girl that her involvement was limited. It was a risk, giving details, but given that the diva needed her for something, she figured that the girl wouldn't press too hard for details out of fear of her walking. Rachel nodded, and was now in a much better, happier mood as she led the way upstairs, clearly pleased with the morsel of information. "If you've been so secretive about it, why take part in the first place?" Berry asked as they entered the girl's room, Santana finding a computer chair to plop down onto while Rachel sat all prim and proper at the foot of the bed.

"One of the jazz band guys, Greg? He was in one of the music schools I used to go to in Columbus every summer. Even back then, I was pretty good at writing music and arranging it, composing it…I barely ever paid attention to anyone there, but I guess he recognized me when I joined glee." Santana started her explanation, deciding to be just detailed enough, while skipping over most of what she did there. It had been a simple enough question, really. "Anyway, the jazz band are mostly kids with only average talent, they probably don't practice every day, and they were having a hard time meshing and charting out the shit themselves…you might remember that early on, glee did some stuff that was different from the sheet music of songs you could buy in stores, and they were struggling, so he called me and said he'd show Schue and everyone one of my original songs from school, so I helped him out."

"He blackmailed you?" Rachel asked, gasping almost theatrically enough to think it was fake, but, well, it was Rachel. The girl embodied all things overdramatic.

"More or less. Besides, I love glee, and I didn't want us to be embarrassed out there, so I helped organize them. At least, that's how it started, but then mash-ups rolled around, and performances like 'Toxic' where the song had to be played really differently and everything, too." She continued, Rachel hanging on every word of her little explanation. It was kind of endearing to see the girl so wide-eyed and focused. And quiet, seeing as how Rachel had only spoken during a clear pause in her speech. "Look, the jazz band are nice and all, but they're musicians, not creative, so they can play…they just need to be told what to play."

Rachel nodded slowly, the gears turning in her head as a fairly comfortable silence filled the room. "I had no idea." Berry mumbled after a few minutes of consideration. "I always wondered why, on the odd impromptu performance, they would stumble sometimes, and stick to the basics, playing it simple and safe."

"They can do some light improv, one or two can do more like Greg, like the drummer and that girl with the harp. But really, they're at their best with some leadership." Santana agreed, nodding happily at the fact that Berry noticed some of the pitfalls in the talents of the band. It was nice to know someone else caught onto that.

Berry's expression turned serious, the girl's gaze finding hers quickly. "Santana…would you like to be co-captain of glee? I…I could campaign for you, considering all that you've done for the club, and for what you did in the Troubletones."

The offer was a surprise, given Santana had basically recently told Rachel that she was the sole captain of glee; it was just as shocking a thought as if junior-year Quinn had offered her co-captaincy of the Cheerios. She shook her head both in disbelief and denial. "No…I'm fine. If people knew what I did, I'd be relegated to being part of the band as my 'starring' role, while everyone else got chances to sing. I like double dipping and I want to perform in the future…I want a fair fight for solos and duets and everything, and I'd lose that if people knew." She noted, currently pretty happy with her glee set-up. Sure, she rarely got solos, but she knew she at least had a shot if people thought it was all she had going for her. "Well, that, and I don't want everyone hassling me all the time like I'm sure would happen. Britt and Mike know, and now you know, and any more would be too much."

Rachel cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brows in confusion. "How does Mike know?"

"He and Britt are close, and they dance all the time. Britt's my BFF, right? She knows a hell of a lot about me, and one day she brought one of my mixes to the dance studio they practice at…she gets there an hour early to warm up and everything, and Mike showed up early that day too, and liked what he heard, and Britt accidentally blurted out that I did it. So he came to me and decided to keep quiet on the condition I help him sometimes. So that's why the boys always have decent mash-up music…It's a favour for his silence, and he tells them his cousin does it for him." She explained, feeling like she'd talked about a week's worth of words since she got into Berry's room. For a brief moment, Santana wondered if it was contagious, before dismissing the thought.

"That's nice of you. Well, it might be a way to avoid blackmail again, but it's nice." Rachel said with a bright smile, though Santana felt more or less done talking about herself, so she switched gears a bit.

She got up off the chair and gave Berry's room an appraising look. "So, why don't you show me this choreography?"

Rachel almost immediately had an abnormally large binder on her lap, flipping it open to reveal a number of cel drawings. Santana walked over to the girl, sitting beside her on the bed, looking at the crudely drawn figures with specific colours representing groups, and arrows designating movement. It all looked a bit confusing, but Rachel explained the basics quickly and she caught on.

It was around the sixteenth sheet where her eyes caught a detail, her hand shooting out to grab the book before Berry could flip the page. Seeing Rachel's curiosity, she pointed to Mercedes' figure. "She can't do that."

Rachel, of course, rolled her eyes and started speaking before Santana could continue. "It might be difficult for her, but with practice…"

"No, honestly, she won't be able to do that with her bad knee, at least not in that direction. Her weight's going to be shifting onto it almost fully, and it can't handle that." Santana said quickly, interrupting the diva, whose eyes widened speculatively.

"She has a bad knee? Since when?" the girl asked, which Santana knew wasn't a surprise; Mercedes had asked her to keep it on the down-low, and she didn't enjoy breaking promises. Though, she did come close during Booty Camp when Mercedes was pulling a hissy-fit over moves she would have been able to do if healthy.

She nodded simply, only explaining further when Rachel gave her a pointed look that pleaded for her to continue. "She…look, don't tell anyone about this okay? I'm only saying this because I don't want her to, like, topple over like a tree or something because you work her too hard. But she tore her meniscus last year during the duet project. We were doing a Rihanna number, and it was kind of tough on her, and she got hurt. We changed numbers and rocked it of course, but 'Cedes had to take some painkillers, basically only did simple walk-dancing stuff, and she spent the next few weeks' free periods in the nurse's office on a date with ice-packs and anti-inflammatories." Her re-telling of the incident had Berry's eyes comically wide, the girl's hand covering her mouth in shock. Seriously, it was weird, but the girl's flair for the overdramatic was kind of rubbing off on her. "Anyway, I told her to get it checked out, but I don't think she got surgery or anything or we would have seen her with a brace or something, so it's probably still messed up…so unless you want to wreck the girl's knee even more than it already is, you won't have her do that maneuver."

Rachel took in her words for nearly a minute before nodding and looking intently back at the sheet. "What do you think we could do instead, though? I don't mean to sound callous, but it's important that we do something at this point of the song in order to properly convey the music's emotion through our bodies."

Santana took another look at the choreography, flipping back from the start to that sixteenth frame again as an idea crossed her mind. "If we shift Britt and Mike to the front for a small solo, and we position them a little off alignment to the right of the stage, they'll basically be blocking view of Mercedes. We give her a simpler turn and everyone a little more animated of a hand gesture to distract the judges, and they won't even know. AND we'll get a dance solo out of it to score points." It wasn't the best plan, but it would keep them from tossing out and entirely re-doing what was looking to be solid choreography.

Rachel's smile slowly grew, the girl nodding happily. "Yes…that could definitely work."

Santana just shrugged, knowing Britt would be better at this part than her, but she was pretty alright. At least, enough to keep up with Rachel. Of course, Rachel skimmed through more pages, asking her question after question, looking for more advice, and as minutes passed, she learned a lot more about how Berry's mind worked. And soon enough, she learned what areas the girl was weak in, which she either helped fill with her own expertise, or pointed the diva to Britt and Mike for help. Either way, it certainly wasn't the worst way to spend an afternoon.

* * *

_Evening of December 24_ _th_

* * *

Rachel worked with Santana through the rest of the afternoon on a number of songs, finishing up the last bit of choreography on their eighth number just after dinner. Honestly, it was more than a little baffling how quickly they worked together; whenever she didn't have a solution, Santana did, and when the cheerleader puzzled over an issue, she had a fix. Rachel was positively thrilled that they operated on a similar wavelength and had such chemistry together. Yet, the girl had continued surprising her as the day went on with her attention to detail. She supposed it made a little bit of sense, seeing how perceptive Santana was in the past when it came to finding out other people's secrets through words, body language and more, and that level of focus had Rachel more than happy that the cheerleader was on her team.

The girl had brought her laptop into the room midway through the afternoon and helped Rachel walk through the choreography, getting the basic timing and movements down. While Santana hadn't picked out one of her mash-up projects yet out of the pile, she hoped the girl would soon enough, given their chemistry and the fun they were having. It just had her wondering what the creative process was like producing a mash-up, and if it could be equally as enjoyable.

"Rachel! Time to get ready!" she heard her dad LeRoy call up the stairs, stilling her hand against the binder where she'd been looking at some of the unfinished songs. _Right…I was so caught up in glee that I forgot!_

"I'll be down in a minute!" she yelled back, blushing in embarrassment over how loud her voice was, seeing Santana wincing a little bit. The girl recovered quickly, though, and quirked a questioning eyebrow. "It's just a family tradition I need to attend to."

Santana's eyebrow remained angled upward as the girl smirked and nodded slowly. "Have fun, then."

She shot Santana a smile as she got up off the bed, retrieving her new scarf before skipping out her door and down the stairs, knowing she was probably late but not really caring due to the good mood she was in. _We accomplished so much! I should invite her to help more often, and maybe with her added voice, Mister Schuester will listen to my advice…_ she mused, grabbing some candy-canes from the kitchen and stuffing them in her coat pockets. Rachel tossed on all her winter clothing as fast as she could, to the amusement of her fathers, and was just lacing up her boots when she heard Santana walking down the stairs and into the kitchen, probably to get something to drink after their marathon session.

A hand on her elbow brought her gaze up to her daddy's face momentarily, catching his inquisitive expression. She shook her head at his silent question; Santana wouldn't dare subject herself to caroling in public with them. Inside her home, in private, she'd come to learn that Santana could be easygoing and surprisingly nice. Out in public, with her reputation on the line? She was certain the girl would decline. It was good enough to her that she'd gotten the cheerleader to work with her on glee projects, but that was a private club. Public performance in front of potential strangers, peers and friends? No.

Hiram didn't seem to understand, though, given his skeptical gaze. "Hey, I forgot my watch. Cupcake, can you help me look?" And just like that, she was dragged off upstairs and into her parents' room, wondering what exactly he was talking about, because he put his watch in the same spot every night, and there wasn't anything to talk about.

Once the door was closed, he turned to face Rachel, who was standing by the bed, wondering why he'd hauled her in there, wasting precious caroling time. "Did she say no?" he asked immediately in a hushed tone, which wasn't needed despite hearing the slightly muffled footsteps coming up the stairs moments afterward.

"Santana would never come along with us, it would be a capital offense to the student population at McKinley…her reputation would probably be damaged beyond repair." She retorted, a little upset that he was questioning her judgment when she was the one who had firsthand experience of the girl in public and how she acted.

He sighed and walked over to his dresser, grabbing his watch and slipping it on. "Give her more credit than that, Rachel. She went to Columbus with us."

Rachel nodded, because yes, she did, but he wasn't understanding her. "Yes, away from Lima and the social circles that exist here. This is different."

Hiram sat down at the side of the bed and patted the spot beside her. She obediently followed, but hoped the conversation would end soon so they could go have some fun. Besides, she was starting to feel uncomfortably warm with all her layers on. "Did she not sing carols with glee in the teacher's lounge that year? She did the New York City promo song at the start of junior year unless you forgot to mention her absence. And I'm sure she's done other public songs with the rest of the club right?" he asked, to which she nodded, because it was true. But it was also different, because the girl had real friends in glee like Quinn and Brittany. Tonight, all Santana would have is her, and Rachel was pretty sure that wouldn't be enough. "Rachel, cupcake, can you keep a secret?"

Her eyes widened, because of course she could keep a secret. She was a secret keeper, a living vault of information kept secure from spying eyes, an impenetrable labyrinth with the valued information hidden away in some lost, legendary corner of her mind which only she knew the path to, guarded by the ferocious minotaur of her willpower and inner strength. Rachel Barbra Berry could definitely keep a secret, so she nodded once more determinedly, especially since she knew that her daddy didn't usually broach serious issues with her, so it had to be important.

"Santana's parents aren't at a medical conference in Colorado." He stated flatly, the simple phrase not really comprehensible to Rachel; she wasn't sure how he could possibly know that, or how that made sense. They were away from home during the holidays, of course they'd be at some important convention. That was why Santana had been brought over to their home, after all. "I've been friends with Mariano Lopez since he moved to Lima, and he and Vera's wedding anniversary is December twenty-first."

Rachel nodded slowly, smiling at the date. "The winter solstice…that's really sweet."

Hiram sighed and slumped forward a little. "The two have always been really close, they're a very devoted couple…and they always make time for each other." He added, his tone darkening a bit at the end, which was a little confusing, because married couples SHOULD make time for each other. It only seemed healthy to do so. They sat in silence for a few extra seconds, and she wondered what exactly the importance of his words were, because she really didn't see this as secret-worthy material. Aliens, supernatural beings, secret Broadway talents; those were worthy secrets. "They leave to celebrate their anniversary for the second half of December each year, and they use the conference as an excuse to get away. He…he's always gone on about how smart and independent his daughters are."

"Wait…" Rachel cut in, her jaw clenching as the gears in her head spun, finally getting the picture that her father had been so inefficiently painting. "Are you saying she's been alone every Christmas for years? She…she said she started doing her annual walk alone when she was eleven…"

"If I'd known about it earlier I would have had her stay here a long time ago, but I only caught wind of it from a nurse that lives on his street. She told me about how the girl's been left home alone for years, so she and some of the other neighbours would keep an eye out sometimes, because it's a bad time of the year for break-ins. I always thought he sent her away to visit family." Hiram explained, and Rachel immediately felt a pit form in her gut, a few things making a lot more sense to her now. Brittany was, as usual, off in Europe for the holidays, and she'd heard Quinn complaining about having to visit her sister Frannie and her Grandmother in Chicago for Christmas; that left Santana with no close friends or family in Lima.

And she thought back to her interactions with the girl, how Santana would hole up in her room, how she'd appear hesitant or slightly uncomfortable around her and her family at times, even if those expressions were fleeting. It had her wondering if maybe Santana felt like she was on the outside looking in during this time of year, that maybe she was a little lonely. With that in mind, Rachel threw away any worries of Santana shutting her down on a request to join her, because if there's one thing she understood, it was loneliness, and how she'd always wanted someone to want her around, and she truly wanted Santana to sing with her, to smile and laugh. Maybe it was a long shot, maybe the girl would say no, but she had to try.

So she stood up, gave her daddy a quick peck on the cheek, and walked out of the room, trying to remain calm and collected as she got to the guest room's open door. Santana was, once again, lying on her bed working on her laptop, though her headphones were just hanging around her neck. Rachel gave a quick knock on the open door, gathering the slightly taller girl's attention.

"Hey, would you like to come caroling with us? I figured you'd be busy and back to work on the project I interrupted earlier but I thought I'd ask anyway." She rambled, trying her best not to blurt out an overly emotional rabble of words.

Santana looked at her like a deer in the headlights of a Mack truck. "It's...uh…well, your family tradition and it's…I just…I'd be imposing and…" Santana sputtered out, having difficulty finding words, though she could tell it was more out of nervousness than a wish for avoidance.

"We'd welcome another caroler happily, Santana, but if you don't want to, that's fine too. No pressure." She added, hoping it would at least set the girl more at ease. She could see the conflict on the girl's face clearly for once, which was more than a little odd. She waited patiently at the door for what was probably a half minute while Santana weighed her options, before the girl closed the lid of her laptop.

She cheered internally, needing to bite down on her lip to keep from smiling too big when Santana's gaze returned to her. "I'll just go get ready then…yeah." The girl mumbled, still looking like a fish out of the water, entirely confused.

She took it as a victory and trotted downstairs, happy that Santana had been brought into the fold, and thankful to her daddy for confiding in her. Now that she knew Santana might not have had very fun, memorable Christmases, she wanted to try and make sure that the cheerleader got as nice of an experience as she could provide.

And when Santana started bundling herself up in the foyer, and Rachel could see that faint little excited grin on her lips, well, that felt about as good of a win as any she'd ever had.

* * *

Santana sat on the warm hardwood floors in front of the fireplace, a mug of hot chocolate resting in her hands as she worked on warming up after two solid hours of caroling. As in, two hours of caroling with Rachel Barbra Berry, who was in a way much too exuberant and chipper about their activity, yet still found a way to not be annoying so much as endearing. It somehow made for a really nice experience, but it was kind of baffling how the girl's energy was contagious instead of off-putting. After all, she'd had years of experience in glee to know how a hyperactive Rachel would affect her, yet her response was very, very different than usual. _Maybe it's just because I've been spending time with her? I mean…we did have fun today, so…and being nice to her has kind of made her more tolerable and relaxed…maybe I'm warming up to her, like, legitimately? Kind of like how Britt makes me smile, but other people roll their eyes at the things she says…not that Rachel's like Britt, or anything, or that I see her like I see Britt…even though they both have their own moments where they're cute or whatever…I mean, Berry's still all over the place, but she reminds me more of an awestruck kid in a toy store than a diva know-it-all lately…eh, shit's confusing, and if I'm looking for a reason to mind, I'm doing it wrong, anyway…_

Initially, she'd been kind of down about finally not being included in a major family activity or whatever; it was hard to be indifferent when Rachel had looked so excited about doing whatever it was, and hadn't even thought to ask her to tag along initially. It wasn't like she hadn't expected to be left out of stuff, it just wasn't anything she really could have prepped for. So when she was in the middle of scouring Facebook for people in worse moods than her, and Rachel popped in to ask if she wanted to join them, it was kind of shocking. And that shock had turned into hesitation, because caroling with Berry? That was arguably one of the least cool things she could imagine, and totally something Santana Lopez wouldn't normally do.

However, the very last thing she wanted was to spend her Christmas Eve the same way she had for the past five years, sitting alone in the living room with a mug of hot chocolate, murmuring carols to herself and, if she was lucky, watching the snow fall outside. Sure, she was doing that right then, minus the murmuring, but she'd done something that night, and was celebrating with a nice dose of serenity. It was different, and no, she wasn't trying to be dramatic or making attempts to be pitiful or whatever, that sad stuff always just happened. She knew other kids would be with their families and friends, getting excited about the next morning, doing fun crap like decorating, baking, watching holiday specials and everything, and she'd be alone. Alone, knowing nothing and no one would be waiting for her on Christmas morning; she considered herself lucky that she'd learned at a young age that Santa wasn't real, because getting forgotten by that fat bastard would have been pretty rough. As a kid, music always cheered her up, and big houses had a way of making her feel really small, so she'd sing to herself in hopes it would help. Sadly, it would never really help enough to make her feel better or happier, though she'd always try anyway. Same with hot chocolate, it just was never enough. And she hadn't wanted that really shitty feeling, so caroling with Rachel had been a more attractive option.

So she'd bundled up and joined them on a clearly tactical route through the 'nearby neighbourhoods', which ended up being half the town. No one had to say anything to Santana for her to know which houses didn't support the Berry family, or at least the ones that didn't appreciate caroling. Which, it turned out, made for a lot of houses. A majority of them. Still, they sang to a lot of people, many that Santana hadn't ever seen or recognized, but they did make it to the odd gleek's house, surprising Kurt, Mike, Tina, Mercedes and Artie. None of which seemed to be able to believe she'd been singing alongside Berry, and planting that little festering seed of confusion was reward enough for that night. Not that caroling wasn't fun, it was just also kind of nice to shake things up a bit and keep people on their toes.

Rachel, of course, had been tactful and said that Santana had joined them after they'd visited her, which was a white lie, since she'd joined at the start, and any visit happened in the Berry's guest room, not out caroling. But either way, it made for a fun time, and she was happy, smiling, and warming up in front of a cozy fireplace. It didn't get much better than that in the winter months.

The Berry men had gone to bed, Hiram having had a long day at the hospital, while LeRoy simply felt like joining him, leaving her downstairs with Rachel. And maybe that meant the Berry men were getting their mack on and feeling festively wanky, which was totes good for them if so. Nothing wrong with some holiday action, and she was perfectly happy giving them their space and co-monopolizing the living room for some movie watching.

Rachel had wanted to watch some Christmas specials, like Charlie Brown's Christmas, The Muppets' Christmas Carol, and all this adorable shit. She'd expected the girl to be all about White Christmas and Miracle on Whatever Street, but apparently she'd already watched those on her own, because her dads weren't into them. For good reason, she figured, as they were both films that just dragged on and on forever. Santana Lopez could handle cartoons and Muppets, however. She was, after all, friends with Britt, the girl who still regularly invited her over for Saturday morning cartoons.

Eventually, Berry strolled into the room with her own mug of something and a plate of fresh sugar cookies, and suddenly the fireplace just wasn't the best place to hang out. Not when Rachel was sitting down on the couch and resting the plate conveniently on the end table beside Santana's usual armrest. Seriously, that girl could bake.

Deciding to take some initiative, she grabbed the prearranged movies and started placing them into the DVD player, idly wondering why anyone would really need a five disc changer, but whatever. She still put in the movies, including standard fare like Charlie Brown, Muppets, the cartoon version of Grinch, Rudolf, and surprisingly Home Alone. Santana took a moment to wonder if Berry was a mind-reader, because she loved the hell out of that movie, but figured that maybe the diva liked its craziness too. After all, the kid was definitely a planner, much like Berry.

Once done, she closed the tray and slipped into her designated spot between Rachel and the armrest; it wasn't like there were better places to sit anyway, but she did kind of enjoy sitting with the diva. It was nice. Berry started the films in motion, Charlie Brown starting up first, which was cool because she had secretly always loved Snoopy, Lucy and Linus. She'd practically grown up on it, watching it with her sister each year, so the familiarity of it was really nice. So was Rachel snuggling into her near the end of the special, an act she reciprocated by holding the girl against her with an arm as they sat there all warm under the blanket.

"Have you had a good time with us so far?" Rachel asked quietly; Santana was unable to see the girl's expression due to how they were angled, but knew just from Berry's voice that she was a little nervous. And she shouldn't have been.

"I have, surprisingly." She noted, following it with a happy sigh, because she was in a pretty great mood, and there were fresh sugar cookies to overdose on within arm's reach. Rachel twisted in place, turning her head to face her, the girl's mocha brown eyes all shiny and hopeful and alluring. "Honestly, I expected to be annoyed when my parents dropped me off, and to probably have a bad time, but you've been alright."

Rachel's bright expression shifted into a pout at that, which had Santana confused until Rachel predictably started talking. "Just alright?" the girl asked petulantly, huffing as Santana giggled a little bit. "I was just trying to make you feel perfectly welcome and included, Santana."

"Hey, I was just playi…" Santana started, hoping to make the girl realize that she was just poking fun at her, at least until she processed the girl's words and how they were spoken. "Wait, what do you mean by that?"

This time, it was Rachel's turn to give a deer in the headlights expression, immediately stumbling for words in a way that Santana couldn't help but feel bad about, because it was the same reaction Brit had whenever she caught the blonde eating all her lime skittles. "I…well…it's just that I like to be a good host…and proper etiquette for having guests…um…I'm sure…"

It was enough to know something was wrong, and there really was only one explanation for why the diva would be stumbling over such a simple question. At least, not including times when she's flirted heavily with the girl, which she wasn't at the time. Santana couldn't help but feel a little sick, knowing Rachel had never been a good liar, and maybe a lot of what she thought was real wasn't. "You know."

"Santana, please, I can…Santana…" Rachel started pleading, her decidedly feminine hands clutching at Santana's tank top in an attempt to get her attention, but all she could think about was whether any of the past few days were real. The pleading tone, however, was enough for her to believe it wasn't. Rachel was a good actress most of the time, anyway.

"You didn't have to do it, you're not obligated to usher me around or try to bring me into your family stuff…I know you're not my family, you don't need to make up for mine, Berry." She stated firmly, trying to control her breathing, trying to control her emotions, trying to just figure out what the hell to do, because she really wanted off the couch and to be alone, but Rachel was latched onto her, repeating her name and apologetic words, and it was all a bit too much. _I mean, it's sweet that she cares so much about not offending me or anything, but I need to set the record straight…let her and her dads do their own thing like they should be…_ "Look, I'm not a sub for your parents, and you probably still hate me because of school and everything, so I'll just let you watch all this in peace, okay? I'll stay in my room until noon tomorrow so you and your dads can have family time without me intruding, it's not a problem, I get it."

Rachel just kept repeating the word 'no' in broken whispers, and she really didn't want Berry to be upset, because it wasn't the diva's fault. It was hers for even thinking she could belong, and for pretending she had, and just pushing herself onto them. Santana knew that Rachel was polite above nearly all else. Hell, she remembered how after Finn blew her off last Christmas in the tree lot, she still drove him home because she was his ride, despite being heartbroken and kind of having a breakdown, apparently. At least, that's what Kurt said, but he was a good source for most things related to Finnept and Rachel. Santana knew the girl often just felt obligated to help for some inexplicable reason; it's just that she wanted, for once, for someone to want her company during that time of the year. "You didn't ask for the biggest bitch in school to parachute in and destroy your holidays, so I'll just do my own thing, it's cool." She finished, pushing herself off the couch, only to be pulled back down onto it with fierceness she hadn't been prepared for, the diva's arms wrapped tightly around her in a waist-lock. She let out a sigh, because leave it to Berry to be stubborn. "Rachel…"

"NO." the girl ground out firmly, squeezing Santana tighter in the vice-grip of the waist-lock.

"Berry, come on, let me go." She insisted, wriggling around in the girl's embrace, but the way she'd collapsed back onto the couch left her without a lot of leverage to shake the diva off.

"No." Once again, she was met with the monosyllabic response, a surprising turn of events given the girl's usual verbose personality, but she was pretty sure Rachel would rant sooner or later, and would let her go afterward or something.

She looked at the screen, realizing her body was blocking the smaller girl's view. "Look, you're missing the Muppets, okay? So just…"

"I can play the scene again, it doesn't matter. What matters is that YOU watch those movies with ME, on THIS couch. I want you here because I ENJOY having you here, not because I pity you, Santana." Rachel spoke slowly and sincerely, each syllable above challenge or question. It was all just really confusing, and Santana wasn't really sure what was going on anymore, so she just repositioned herself back to her familiar spot, Berry automatically adapting with each motion, both getting comfier despite the diva's firm hold on her.

Santana waited patiently for more, knowing Rachel would keep talking, probably; until then she'd enjoy the girl giving her a sort of bear-hug. Except Berry wasn't a bear, more like a bear cub, baby koala, or an over-excited puppy. She didn't have to wait too long, Rachel starting the last scene over first, with a rather dexterous foot, before continuing. "Until today, a few minutes before we left to go caroling, all I knew was that I've had a lot of fun with you. I'd found a more relaxed, patient, and kinder side to you after our time around each other, and I liked your company a lot. I knew that each day, I'd hope you'd spend more time downstairs with us or in my room with me, because you make my parents laugh, you make me happy, and I liked seeing you more at ease and content." Rachel rambled, speaking softly at a breakneck pace, but Santana was picking up on every detail, every word, every brief pause to breathe. She knew this would be a long one, so she just sunk backward against Berry and let her go on uninterrupted.

"While I respected your space, on days where you hid yourself away I would look forward to dinner the most, because I knew I'd get to see you then, and maybe convince you somehow to stay downstairs and spend time with us. Then there was my birthday, learning you woke up early, despite being something of a night owl, just to make me breakfast in bed…and the fact that you did those beautiful snow sculptures, and went with us to Columbus and to the play, and you…you were the first non-romantic friend I've ever had attend one of my birthdays, and I know you may not see me as a friend, but I can't help but see you as one, and I don't care. Or, well, I DO care. It meant a lot to me, so I'm going to say it. And before I knew about you, I wanted you to come caroling, I desperately wanted you to, because we'd had so much fun and I wanted to keep that going, but I let myself assume things. But when I learned what very little I was told, my worries about you not wanting to be seen with me in public went out the window, and I let myself remember the girl who made my birthday special, and I asked that girl to come caroling, because I knew that music makes you happy, and I wanted you to smile for as long as possible, because…because not only should no one be alone on Christmas, but they should spend it with people who care for them, and I care for you. A lot. Not because I feel I have to, but because you made me. And I didn't ask you because I had to, but because I wanted to." Rachel was left basically gasping for air, deep breaths washing against the back of Santana's neck as the diva tried to catch her breath after her absolutely monstrously long speech. Because that's what it was to Santana; it wasn't a rant, it wasn't unfocused rambling, it was a speech.

One she didn't know how to respond to, because fuck if that girl didn't just say some really nice things. Her eyes were brimming with tears in the aftermath of it, and like the Grinch, she kind of felt like her heart grew a few sizes just listening to Rachel, so she did what she could muster.

"You talk too much." She whispered, her voice cracking and breaking on the final syllable as she spun in the other girl's arms and planted a chaste kiss to the diva's cheek, giving her the opportunity to wipe her tears away stealthily as well as show her gratitude. "Thanks, though. For…everything." She managed to choke out, squeezing Berry into a tight hug, because she didn't have the words, and really needed to let the girl know how she felt. What those words meant to her. What wanting her there meant to her.

After a few seconds of that, she released one arm from the diva's body and pulled the blanket back over them again. To someone who saw them mere minutes ago, it would have looked like nothing had changed, even though pretty much everything had.

"Santana…thank you for making this holiday break special. I wanted to say that before, but my breath control techniques failed me at the end." The diva whispered against her body, making Santana blush, because fuck if anyone's ever said that to her before. She may have teared up again, but only like, in theory. Or whatever.

Near the end of the Muppets, Rachel shifted off Santana slightly, making the taller girl curious momentarily. However, the diva's hands tugged at the cheerleader's body a bit, laying her out across the couch with the armrest as a pillow. It was a cushiony enough thing, so Santana didn't mind it, especially when Rachel laid herself down directly on top of her chest.

She couldn't help but giggle in sheer disbelief at the girl's antics, Berry legitimately nuzzling her little diva head against her breasts, using them as pillows and clearly trying to get comfy. "Are you done motor-boating me yet, cupcake?" she asked playfully, stilling the girl who was now very much blushing. Santana was pretty sure Rachel apologized, but the words were mumbled and muffled by the fact that the girl's mouth was against her tits, so she just decided to roll with it. "It's cool, Berry, I've been told my tits are like fluffy clouds."

Rachel broke out into laughter at that, nearly rolling off Santana, the taller girl needing to worm her arms around the diva to keep her on the furniture. "Brittany…Brittany has a way with words, sometimes."

And that had Santana laughing, because it just brought back the memory of the event. "No, that was a very, very drunk Quinn Fabray who said that." She noted proudly, because it was totes a compliment. She was curvy in all the right places, and that made her really damn comfy, and she knew it. So while Rachel was laughing even harder, she just held the girl tightly around the waist with one arm, and held Berry's head to her chest with the other, the girl's head turned to face the screen so they could both enjoy the rest of the films. Rachel hummed contentedly and nuzzled her breasts a little more before settling in and wrapping an arm behind Santana's shoulders, the diva's hand finding warm skin to trace patterns onto ever so slowly.

Yeah, Santana was comfortable as hell. _I should do these marathons more often…especially with Berry around, because damn if she doesn't feel awesome on top of me like this. I don't even care that she's crazy as hell…_ she mused, smiling as 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas' started up on the screen, Santana feeling quite content about how her Christmas Eve had turned out.


	7. Chapter 7

_Morning of December 25_ _th_

* * *

Rachel shot up in her bed, a distant sound rousing her from her sleep just a little past two in the morning. She'd never been the deepest sleeper, certainly not like her parents, so it didn't surprise her when she heard a distinct lack of footsteps or any noise coming from their room. More than a little aggravated and concerned, she scooted off the bed and tossed on her slippers before cautiously padding into the upstairs hallway.

Light rustling sounds emanated from the ground floor, odd lighting breaking through what should have been full-on darkness downstairs with no one awake. Slowly, she descended toward the foot of the stairs, stopping at the intersection where the kitchen and foyer met, wishing she'd brought her whistle or pepper spray with her. _I hope it's not someone stealing the gifts my fathers and I laid out, we put a lot of thought into them…I know I can be loud, but I'm not particularly strong, nor is my mind suited for combat…_

Taking a steadying breath, she crept through the kitchen and peeked into the living room, first at the tree, noticing all the gifts were still there, perhaps with a few more added, which was odd. Then her eyes shifted over, spotting a figure silhouetted standing by the fireplace that had apparently been dangerously left on overnight. The individual didn't look much taller than her, but there was what appeared to be a large sack full of something beside them, which certainly had the potential to contain weapons or stolen paraphernalia.

She stepped into the room, flicking the light switch, which for the first time in her moderately short life decided not to function, outside of drawing attention to herself. The figure turned around slowly and gracefully, stepping away from the sack and toward her, a sugar cookie in hand. Even with the dim light, the intruder's face was visible, and Rachel suddenly found herself with an inability to form words as the girl's form became much clearer.

Santana was wearing this entirely skimpy, feminine version of the Santa suit, which honestly was more of a figure-hugging dress than anything. Her eyes trailed down, spotting a stretch of the girl's caramel legs before they were encased by black leather knee high boots with sheep's wool cuffs that, despite the unethical measures used to obtain the materials, looked ridiculous on her, in a very good way, much like the matching elbow-length gloves. And, of course, atop Santana's smirking head was the traditional Santa hat, but by that point, her focus was entirely on the girl's dark gaze and full, smirking lips.

"What…what are you doing here?" she asked, forcing that question out instead of a plethora of less appropriate ones, and perhaps the other girl caught on to that, silently crossing the distance between them before answering, the girl taking a small bite of the star-shaped sugar cookie first. Her eyes kept darting between Santana's lips and the absolutely knee-shaking intensity of her gaze.

"I'm Santana Claus, where else would I be?" the girl purred, Rachel immediately feeling flushed with heat from the texture of her voice alone. It was almost embarrassing how Santana was affecting her. And Rachel knew for certain that she wasn't exactly the best at hiding her emotions, so when Santana began circling her like a predator, she figured that the girl knew exactly what was happening. "Isn't it true that you've been a very good girl this year?"

The shift to an exaggeratedly innocent tone only made her knees feel as if they would buckle beneath her, the girl's sultriness seeping through every praise-filled word she'd spoken. Rachel couldn't help but wonder if Santana could do so much with only words, what else she was capable of. Honestly, she wasn't sure whether to be excited to maybe find out, or scared of information and sensory overload. Rachel nodded in response, unable to decide how to proceed with Santana's fingertips grazing along the small of her back tantalizingly.

Santana hummed at how the diva's body shivered from the slight ministration. "I leave the very best for last, you see. Not every girl can offer both cookies this delicious, and something even sweeter." Santana purred against her ear, trailing a hand down Rachel's arm. "And I am craving something deliciously sweet tonight, Rachel."

Not at all used to such heavy-handed flirting, Rachel averted her gaze toward the tree in hopes of regaining composure. It didn't work very well, not with Santana's body grazing against her own. "There are…are only two new gifts by the tree." She blurted out, hoping desperately for a change in topic, despite physically yearning for more contact.

"I had to bring Hiram and LeRoy gifts…they were on the nice list." Santana spoke sweetly, a gloved hand gently massaging Rachel's shoulder, the other girl standing barely an inch apart from her.

She couldn't help but have her confusion compounded; Santana was here in a Santa costume handing out gifts? She was on the nice list but didn't have a present of her own, while her fathers had one each? "What about mine?" she asked, knowing she HAD been good, so she was deserving of a gift. It was only fair, really.

"Would you like to receive it?" Santana asked, her voice changing tone once more to one of sultry innocence that had Rachel weak at the knees again. Especially upon seeking out Santana's eyes and seeing nothing but unadulterated lust and hunger in the girl's eyes. While she wouldn't have the courage to voice it, she felt similar forces at work within her, pulling her toward a response that maybe wasn't the most appropriate.

"It's custom to unwrap one gift after midnight on Christmas Day before morning light." Rachel replied, earning a hum of approval from Santana, whose hand moved up her neck to cup her cheek. She had to fight the urge to lean forward and just kiss the girl's full, red lips. Perhaps the most embarrassing part was the shock about feeling that way was likely the only thing that held her stationary, her mind processing her emotions as if it was an end of the world situation.

"You've always had a beautiful mind." The girl noted quietly, maybe even reverently, as she caressed Rachel's cheek; the soft, warm leather felt surprisingly nice on her face, but she wanted to feel the girl's hand itself instead.

Rachel was pretty sure if she blushed any harder, she'd explode, because between the sexual thoughts and the compliments, she was kind of on cloud nine, and was eager for more attention and praise. "Thank you." She whispered, unable to find any other words that were remotely worthy of being spoken, and which also weren't entirely crass.

"Don't thank me for compliments, cupcake…they're facts, not the gift I have in store for you." Santana whispered as she leaned forward, the girl's lips ghosting against the shell of her ear tantalizingly.

"And what…exactly…is my gift?" Rachel breathed out, feeling short of breath with Santana pressed up against her in a plethora of delicious ways. It was a bittersweet relief when Santana stepped away, the loss of contact not even remotely mitigated by the ability to breathe again.

She watched Santana's ever-present smirk slip away as the girl took on a neutral, slightly shy expression before turning her back to Rachel, exposing the corseted back of the dress. Rachel couldn't help but step closer, if not because Santana's aura demanded it, but because there was a tag hanging from the knotted string cinching the dress tight. Her hands took hold of it and flipped it over to expose the writing.

_For Rachel…Love, Santana Claus xoxoxo_

Rachel blushed fiercely as she dropped the tag, her hands shaking slightly as she thought about what to do. Thankfully, Santana had suggestions. "You can unwrap me if you'd like. Or you could play with me a little to try and find out what's inside, but…well, I have a feeling you'd just be toying with me, Rachel, and that would be a bit naughty, wouldn't it?" Both were rather wonderful options, but how could she say no to the first?

She gulped back her fears, took a steadying breath to still her hands, and slowly began loosening the bodice of the dress, savouring every contented hum from the girl, every inch of progress toward her goal. With her determination, it didn't take long for the dress to slacken enough to slip down the girl's body, pooling on the floor, revealing Santana had only worn a lacy red thong underneath.

Rachel hadn't even been aware that she was staring and perhaps drooling until a gloved hand gently lifted her chin to close her mouth. "The only thing I want on your lips are my own, or my cum." The girl purred brazenly at her ear once more, yet again making Rachel feel as if her face would soon explode from all the blood rushing through her cheeks and how flustered she was.

Santana took hold of her hand and silently led Rachel through the kitchen and up the stairs into the dark of her room. Rachel watched the girl crawl onto the bed and use a nearby match to light the candle on the night-table, giving the room some soft lighting. Rachel couldn't help but just take Santana's beauty in as the girl rested against her headboard, biting that full, kissable lip oh so seductively. It didn't seem fair, logical or smart, but she couldn't help herself anymore as she slowly approached the bed, crawling onto it on all fours. Just the idea of touching Santana was intoxicating. Her eyes took in every visible curve barely able to wait to caress the girl's full, soft breasts; she had to wonder if Quinn lied to Coach Sylvester about them, because they looked both organic and incredibly inviting. Santana licked her lips in anticipation, which only momentarily distracted Rachel as she crawled over top of the girl, who slid gamely down onto her back in response.

Rachel brought down a shaking palm to cup Santana's cheek, while the other pressed down on Santana's breast for balance and to verify that what was happening was real; like the previous night on the couch, the girl's breasts were magnificent, and felt so, so much better with skin-on-skin contact. Bringing her gaze to Santana's, staring into the intensity of those dark brown eyes, she allowed herself a smile, overcome by curiosity and lust. "Mine." She whispered, leaning down toward a smirking Santana, whose hand came up to the back of her neck, pulling their faces closer until their lips were a breath apart, the scent of sugar and peppermint in her nostrils.

"Yours." She heard Santana whisper in response before the taller girl brushed their lips together. Rachel's entire body tingled with electricity from the brief contact, just as it had the previous night on the couch when the girl had kissed her. She needed more, and if this was her gift, she'd enjoy it to the fullest. She'd claim what was hers.

Not hesitating another second, she lowered herself onto the cheerleader, their lips meeting tenderly, Santana leading her through the kiss at a slow, sultry pace. Rachel's hunger to consume Santana was overwhelming, only kept in check by Santana's skillful tongue and the brief opportunities to nip at the girl's lower lip like she'd been wanting to ever since she'd first seen that smirk downstairs. She savoured every movement, Santana's hands caressing her body as she palmed one of the girl's breasts, working over her nipple with an agile thumb and index finger combination that elicited delicious, unforgettable whimpers of pleasure from the cheerleader. Her cheerleader.

With every brief intermission between kisses, the gasped, breathless delivery of that single word was repeated, cementing her dominion over Santana. It was intoxicating to have the powerful, popular girl underneath her, writhing at her touch, her eyes so full of passion. Rachel knew she'd have to ask Santana about breath control techniques, because she was rendered breathless by the other girl's beauty and ability to the point where her own lungs were starting to hurt from the strain.

Mid-kiss, she felt Santana's hand snake down her body, only then reminding her that she was in pajamas, while the girl beneath her looked like the sexiest winter goddess in all of life's history. It was somewhat morbidly embarrassing, to put it lightly. As if reading her mind, she felt lips against her neck, peppering her tender skin with soft sweet kisses. "You're so beautiful, Rachel…so fucking beautiful." The girl whispered just as Rachel felt a gloved finger slip lower on her body. She was pretty sure she could drown a small child already, even though she'd barely been touched beneath her waist, and the cheerleader's reverent words only fed the burning flames of desire within her.

Santana rested a palm against her chest and lifted Rachel off of her, putting a few inches between them as the other hand returned from its voyage, lingering by the girl's lips. "I bet you're sweet in every way, cupcake." Santana purred, licking her gloved finger; Rachel had never felt sexier than when the girl's eyes rolled to the back of her head, tanned arms hastily pulling her own gloves off before thrusting a naked hand back where it was. As if Santana couldn't possibly stand another second without pure contact. As if Santana needed her as much as she needed the cheerleader.

Overwhelmed by the sensation, and the knowledge that she was actually sexually intimate with Santana and honestly couldn't care less about her previous plans to wait until she was twenty-five, she dove back down onto the girl's collarbone and held onto her for dear life as her hips bucked against the girl's hand. She wanted to let the whole world hear how Santana was making her feel, she wanted to giggle at her luck, but refused to waste her breath or use her mouth on anything but returning the pleasure she was receiving. Possessively, she nipped away at Santana's gloriously exposed neck, soothing each bite with her tongue; it should have been illegal to taste so divine, but she could hardly complain as she made her way to Santana's lips for a heady, passionate kiss that swallowed both of their moans. It was dizzying what the girl could do with just her tongue and lips and a few agile movements of her fingers, almost enough for her to ignore that Santana was shaking her shoulders a bit, and whispering her name on repeat, sounding just as sexy as ever; however, she wasn't entirely free of mental faculties, so she knew that Santana had a hand below her waist and one around her waist, and she was getting kissed into oblivion by the girl, so it was impossible for Santana to be calling out for her.

And when Rachel felt herself shaken a little harder, she bolted up in bed, her head impacting against another hard object, rendering her even dizzier than she'd been before. She opened her eyes, finding Santana stumbling slightly backward, away from her bed, with a hand holding her forehead and a string of muttered Spanish words slipping from her lips.

It was then that she realized with disappointment that Santana was very much fully clothed, and hadn't been engaging in intimate activities with her. She felt herself blushing at the revelation that she'd just had a ridiculously vivid dream, and Rachel could only imagine that if she got out of bed with Santana in the room, the girl would be able to smell the sex on her from how utterly soaked she was.

"I'm so sorry, Santana! You…you just startled me." She apologized quickly, though Santana waved her hand in dismissal as she took a step closer to the bedside.

"It's okay, it's okay…I just woke up early and wasn't sure why you weren't up yet, because it was a little past seven, and I knew you like your schedule and all." Santana explained, idly rubbing her head where Rachel truly hoped a bump didn't exist. The last thing she wanted was to give the cheerleader a headache for Christmas. Of course, what she really wanted to give her now was decidedly inappropriate as well, so she could only hope her material gifts would suffice.

"Oh, I always let myself sleep in on Christmas. It's something of a gift to myself to appreciate my commitment to my schedule, and the rare treat of extended hours of sleep." She rambled, feeling entirely nervous under the girl's concerned gaze. Mostly because Santana was standing rather close, and she knew that if she were to reach out, she could probably tug the girl into bed, which was a bit too forward of a thought for Rachel to handle at the moment. She'd never felt so strongly, so lustful, and it shook her to her core that if was affecting her behavior and urges as much as it was.

Rachel fought a frown of her own as Santana's face dropped, not wishing for the girl to be upset. "I'm sorry, Rach, I…just go back to sleep, alright? I'm sorry." The cheerleader spoke softly, wearing a pained expression that had Rachel wondering exactly what else was troubling the girl, because it couldn't have just been accidentally waking her up.

"It's alright, San. I should be getting up around now anyway. Sleeping in for an extra hour and twenty minutes is nothing to be upset about." She stated, hoping to ease the girl's worries, but Santana just looked over at her, eyes full of remorse. If she wasn't dripping wet, she would have shot out of bed and hugged the girl for all she was worth, and perhaps done something a little more than suggestive, but she was bed-bound until her guest left.

She watched the girl try to force a smile, but it just came across as a grimace. "I'm making breakfast downstairs…I'll see you in a bit?"

Rachel nodded, offering the girl a thankful smile, knowing that Santana really didn't have to make food, even if she was a slightly better chef than her fathers. At the same time, though, she certainly wasn't about to complain. Either way, Rachel waved goodbye to Santana, taking a few moments to ogle the girl's backside, before flopping back onto her bed. "Is it strange to feel like everything has changed?" she mumbled to herself, the question a difficult one to answer, despite it bouncing around in her mind ever since she woke up.

Finn had been her dream once, but it fell apart earlier in the year, and she'd been struggling with what exactly she wanted from a partner. Finn had been close in so many ways, yet was lacking in an important few; she'd accepted that if the boy grew into his potential as a man, he could be it for her, but he simply wasn't ready for her. Quinn had helped her realize that.

Yet, Finn had remained that standard to compare everyone to, and Santana wasn't exactly sharing similarities with him. She was crass at times, rude, prone to teasing, more than a little arrogant, distanced, and often a little bit mean. However, she was also loyal, caring, funny, ambitious, intelligent, creative, musically talented, and very much sweet at heart. _And that's not even mentioning how beautiful she is…_

Honestly, she was more than a little perturbed about the revelation, mostly because she was left with these desires, and wasn't sure what to do about them. Rachel had never felt lust before, and wasn't entirely sure how to deal with not only having started to grow a budding friendship with the girl, but now having urges to literally pounce on her. Besides, she took gifts seriously, even if they only occurred in her dreams; the thought of just going downstairs and claiming the girl with a kiss or a possessive arm around her waist was something she knew she'd have trouble with all day long. Rachel Berry was an only child, and she had never enjoyed the concept of sharing or being denied.

Especially now that she'd grown to like Santana; the previous night on the couch had been wonderful. The girl had kissed her, held her close against breasts that were indeed like fluffy clouds, and it had been entirely exciting. So much that she'd managed to stay awake through all the films due to the sheer arousal knocking at the edges of her mind from Santana's touch. Arousal that took form in her dreams, certainly. As she slipped out of bed and made her way toward the shower, she reveled in the fact that she'd had an amazing night, and could only hope that Christmas morning would be wonderful too.

She just needed a bit of time to separate fantasy and reality, and to get her head on straight. _Well, maybe not as straight as before…_ she mused, humming 'Merry Christmas, Darling' as she stepped into the hot jets of water.

* * *

Santana had felt like she was in a dream, walking around the main floor of the Berry house. When she'd woken up, it all felt much too odd; she'd been the first to wake for once, and momentarily, that crushing feeling of loneliness and yearning had filled her. Her first instinct had been to tiptoe over to Rachel's room to see if the diva was there; in the dream she'd had, everyone had left, so it had her hoping it hadn't come true. Sure, it was an absurd idea, but her mind wasn't entirely rational coming off of a sleep like that, in the early hours of the morning especially. People freaked out sometimes, right?

But there Rachel was, sleeping in her bed, which set her at ease enough to realize the air there was positively electric. Santana wasn't entirely sure why seeing Berry gave her this weird, happy feeling in her chest, but it did, and she at least knew that she'd have company on Christmas again.

Before she could sneak back out, though, she heard the girl whimper and caught her moving around restlessly in bed. Santana remained silent near the doorway for a few moments to see if maybe it was just isolated or whatever, but the girl cried out again. Now, Santana totes wasn't in the running for person of the year, but she wasn't about to let Berry suffer through a nightmare or anything, so she went over to the girl's bedside and called out her name.

Rachel was glistening, covered in a thin layer of sweat that had her disheveled bangs sticking to her forehead in a decidedly alluring way, if Santana was any judge. The girl's brow furrowed and her face was flushed, her whimpering sounding more and more desperate, so Santana gently rested her hands on Berry's shoulders and lightly shook her, calling her name out again. And just as she started shaking the girl again, she realized that Rachel wasn't having a fucking nightmare. Not with those sounds, not with that SMELL, or the uneven breathing and the fact that the girl's body was desperately trying to find friction.

And as soon as she let go, the diva shot forward, two foreheads colliding, stumbling Santana backward as she tried to keep her balance. _Fuck she has a hard head!_ She mused, deciding to cut back on the swearing for a number of reasons. One, it was Christmas, and 'tis the season or whatever. Two, it was Rachel, and she couldn't help that she was woken from a sexy dream. And three, Santana felt like she deserved it for waking the girl from a damn sexy dream. Seriously, she hated the thought of being a box blocker, a clam jammer, a beaver impeder, or causing a clitorference and whatever. _Sure, even if it was just a dream, I did that to both dream Rachel AND real Rachel, and that was just, like, the most tragic start to Christmas day, ever. Seriously, Rach could have started the morning off with a big O, and been in a stellar mood for eons, but I just HAD to think 'Oh no, she's having a nightmare!' instead of just taking a whiff of the freaking air. I'm, like, the worst person ever…_

As the pain subsided, she opened her eyes and had a brief, awkward conversation with Berry, filled with apologies because seriously, the diva deserved them. Especially since she not only caused a clitorference, she also woke her up early; leave it to Berry to sleep in on one day of the damn year. Leave it to her to choose Christmas as that day, seriously. Santana was pretty sure she couldn't feel worse, so she offered the girl breakfast and made a tactical retreat, feeling like she should have gotten twenty-five to life for what she'd done, or at least the equivalent of whatever grand theft orgasm would amount to.

So she'd returned downstairs and decided to just make a fuck-ton of food. It had been a really long time since she'd had a Christmas Day breakfast, so she wasn't sure how that meal worked, but Santana vaguely recalled snacking was involved, and that lunch kind of just ended up being forgotten in lieu of a big Christmas dinner. Hiram and LeRoy had mentioned that they had dinner covered, so since no one else was awake, she tackled breakfast. Since she still had the ingredients for the cake she made the other day, Santana made another for snacking purposes, deciding it was sweet like coffee-cake, so it would probably be fine.

She heard some footsteps upstairs just as she was finishing cutting up some fruit, getting some banana-blueberry oatmeal going, as well as some French toast for herself and perhaps the Berry dads, because she was damn starving. Besides, French toast was super tasty, and she was feeling guilty, and good food tended to make her feel at least a little better. Santana gave LeRoy a smile as he staggered into the kitchen.

"Hey, do you want me to put a pot of coffee on?" she asked, but he waved her off and decided to try to get the machine to do what he wanted. She figured that he'd give up within five or so minutes, but let him tinker anyway.

"Nah, you've done enough, I can handle the coffee duties this morning, Santana." LeRoy noted as he smacked the left side of the machine, trying to speak whatever secret language it knew in hopes of getting a tasty brew going.

Santana gave Hiram a small wave as he followed his husband into the room. "So, what would you two like? I've got some oatmeal, some fruit, some French toast…there's some cake, but I can already see you've noticed that Hiram. Just leave enough for the rest of us, it's Christmas after all." She said, prompting Hiram to finish taking his large slice of cake and a bowl of oatmeal. Eventually, LeRoy walked away in temporary defeat from the coffee machine to grab some cake and French toast for himself, both men finding spots to sit at the table.

She took the opportunity to get a pot of coffee going and then grabbed herself a plate of food, deciding to eat at the stovetop so that she didn't wreck anything like seconds or thirds, or Rachel's portions. Also so that she could guard the cake, because nearly a third of it was already gone.

Santana was halfway through her breakfast when the soft padding sounds of feet met her ears, Rachel entering the kitchen with that trademark smile on her face and wet goddamn hair. Yes, she was staring for a few seconds, and yes, she felt so, so guilty, but it was like a train wreck. _Not that Berry's a train wreck, but she clearly got herself off by that relieved smile on her face, and that glow on her skin, and god does she look amazing with damp hair. Holy shit. Maybe this summer, I'll take her to the beach or something…_ she thought to herself before shaking her thoughts away, realizing she was being a bit of an idiot and a perv. Planning beach days five or six months in advance was pretty much lunacy, and Rachel was straight. _Still…enticing…_

She watched Rachel give her fathers hugs before the girl walked over to her, looking curiously at the food. "You can help yourself to anything here, Rach." Santana noted, just finishing cutting up another peach, because they were just ripe enough to eat, and were nice and tangy. And maybe she was just in the mood for peaches.

"Anything?" Berry asked, her voice soft and thick, while the diva's hand gently massaged her shoulder for a few interesting seconds. A few long, interesting seconds. _Is she…flirting with me?_

"Yeah. Anything." She noted in response, narrowing her eyes at the girl in confusion, trying to figure out what was going on in that pretty little head of hers, but Rachel had her eyes fixed elsewhere.

Rachel gave a hum of acknowledgement, allowing her hand to graze across Santana's back as she moved to the other side of the cheerleader and stretched upward to grab a bowl that was clearly out of reach. Santana noticed that only when she realized Berry hadn't retrieved anything, previously busy staring at Rachel's slightly exposed abs for a second or two. Quickly, she reached up and grabbed the bowl the diva was stretching on her tip-toes for and brought it to the girl, their fingertips grazing against each other's during the transfer.

"Thank you, Santana." Rachel said sweetly, smiling shyly at her, but she wasn't new to this. Santana Lopez had been flirting for years, and she knew Berry had meant for every bit of incidental contact to happen. So she kept a curious eye on the diva, who was busy filling a bowl with oatmeal and an excessive amount of fruit. _She's totes flirting with me…I mean, she said all that nice stuff last night, so she's in my good books, but…flirting? I mean, I did it for fun a few days ago to tease her, and it was hilarious, but she kinda got all red that day. At the same time, though, I guess she didn't mind it at all, because she still wanted to hang around with me, and she's been a little playful too. Maybe…maybe she's just doing this to tease me and be playful like I am, trying to create some common ground. Or maybe she's actually into me…which…hrm…but I'm just gonna assume the other one for now, no need to mess anything up or think too hard…_ she shook her head and grinned, feeling at least a little better that Rachel clearly didn't hold anything against her from earlier that morning.

It didn't rid her of guilt, though, so when she finished prep and made her way to the table, she still grabbed an extra slice of French toast. Sure, it would make Coach furious, but Santana knew she had time to work it off. Besides, she'd lost weight since bunking with the Berrys due to the vegan meals she'd eaten, as well as the smaller portions.

They all waited for Rachel to finish her meal before they all put the dishes in the sink and began congregating in the living room. Santana was looking for a spot to sit for the festivities when she felt a hand lightly grasp her elbow, bringing her focus over to Rachel who was standing really, really close to her. "I just wanted to thank you for the delicious breakfast." Berry noted softly, trailing her hand down the cheerleader's arm before letting go at her wrist, the girl's rich brown eyes looking a little more intense that morning than she'd seen before.

"It's the least I could do, really." Santana's voice was mostly robbed of volume by the expression on the diva's face, but she decided to play as well, even if just a little bit. She took a wonderfully damp lock of hair, slowly tucking it behind the girl's ear before walking off with a smirk to the loveseat. More than anything, she was excited; sure, she was incredibly nervous and anxious, because she hadn't done this kind of Christmasy thing in so long, but she was excited. And Santana knew that if she ever needed a distraction to remind her that today would be a good day, that Rachel would be sitting nearby on the couch to help clear her mind.

* * *

Rachel was excited and refreshed since she cooled off and came down for breakfast, having gained something of a plan of action. Most of which involved testing Santana's waters little by little. Now, she knew she wasn't the most observant person, but she was fairly certain that her decision to not blow-dry her hair produced net gains, given how Santana was staring at her. Especially since it was 'positive' staring, from what she could tell. And well, that was just fantastic!

 _Of course, so was touching her…_ she thought, as she sorted the small pile of gifts. _Though the looks she gave me after that were more curious than anything…which I'd like to take as a positive sign, much like the affectionate little encounter when I thanked her for breakfast. I'd only meant to flirt a little…I didn't expect her to reciprocate in such a…well, innocent manner. Though my fathers WERE right there, so perhaps she took that into account…_

Ultimately, Rachel was having a wonderful morning, despite her dream having been interrupted, and passing out all the gifts just helped her control that enthusiasm. Otherwise, she felt like she'd burst out into a squealing, singing mess, and Rachel knew her fathers tended to prefer she release that solely within the confines of her room.

She quickly and systematically handed out each stack of gifts to the three others who were patiently waiting; there weren't many items, considering Hanukkah already ran its course, but there were enough to put a sparkle in Santana's eye, for certain. The girl had somewhat caused them to revise the status quo, given her late entry into their planning, causing them to be much less prepared. Especially considering the girl's parents hadn't provided any gifts for their daughter to put under the tree, but she and her fathers had made do, using Aunt Katelyn's old stocking for Santana; luckily, it was nameless, only decorated by numerous penguins in the knitted pattern.

It was kind of difficult not to keep glancing back at her guest's reaction to everything, the girl watching everything intently with this cute little smile on her face. It was a smile that Rachel was determined would remain throughout the day, if she had anything to say about it.

Or, at least, she wanted it to stay until she brought Santana her penguin stocking. Santana's gaze shifted from the stocking and back to Rachel, her face knitting in confusion, as if all she'd expected were the three boxed gifts before her. She patiently waited, stocking still in hand as Santana glanced back down at the item, her eyes slowly widening in shock before this beautiful shy smile broke out across the girl's face, and suddenly Rachel felt herself being pulled into a tight, wonderful hug.

"Thank you so much." Santana whispered, clearly choked up by the gesture, which somewhat upset Rachel, as she couldn't imagine the girl going without while in her home. And she couldn't understand how Santana could have thought she would; it was Christmas, and everyone had at least SOMETHING in their stockings. It was a rule. So she just hugged the girl back in an attempt to communicate just how happy she was that Santana was there with them, and only let go when the other girl did, the cheerleader wiping her eyes with that same brilliant smile plastered on her face. It was pretty much the best thing she'd accomplished that holiday season, Rachel figured.

Reluctantly, she returned to finish handing out the gifts, spotting Santana offering her fathers a thankful smile on her way back to the small stack. And they were entirely complicit in it all, so they certainly deserved some thanks as well. The short notice had caused some trouble, but they'd managed well enough; Rachel couldn't help but feel giddy at the aura of glee just emanating from the girl, who was just staring at the gifts and stocking designated to her in disbelief.

Now, Rachel was entirely aware that gift giving was more of a commercial social norm, and certainly secondary to the importance of spending time with family and friends during the holidays, but she still knew it was an important way to maintain connections with people, to show them she cared and that she knew them well. It was thrilling that she'd been able to give the girl both of those things during her stay, and while it was somewhat weird to be spending Christmas with Santana Lopez of all people, it was nice. The cheerleader hadn't really insulted her, and she'd wound up exposing herself as this kind, sometimes uncertain girl who seemed to mean well, even if she was tactless. It had Rachel wondering a little if some of Santana's aggression at school wasn't a little misplaced, but she was aware that her knowledge of the girl was just starting to get past the surface, so she wasn't in a position to make assumptions.

Once everything was passed out, things got traditionally hectic in the unwrapping process. She was about as bad with her impatience as Hiram was, and together they often pressured LeRoy into opening his gifts quickly as well. Rachel happily tore away the paper over one of her gifts, revealing a cute little black sweater with tiny stars instead of polka dots; it was exactly her style, and she knew that before the evening was over, she'd probably have it on.

"Thanks dad, daddy." She called out, hugging the garment against her chest affectionately as they gave their own appreciative smiles, Hiram holding up the hat she'd gotten him. It was in the style he tended to prefer, and since he'd lost his just over a month ago at the hospital, Rachel had felt it was a prime gift-giving opportunity.

Methodically, she continued tearing through her small stack, stilling on her fourth gift for a moment as she glanced over to Santana, who was slowly, carefully unwrapping one of the gifts, seemingly trying not to damage the paper. Rachel glanced over at the girl, feeling that something was off until she realized that the cheerleader hadn't opened anything yet, and had probably just watched her and her fathers open the first few in their usual frenzy. While normally her impatience would still be floating through her mind, for the moment it was firmly packed away at the back as she waited to see the girl's reaction. Her gift had been chosen first by the girl, which was exciting, because when she'd seen it in Columbus, Rachel knew it was made to be worn by Santana. The semi-deteriorated black and white houndstooth dress was just so gorgeous and sleek and it seemed perfect, so she crossed her fingers, hoping Santana would like it.

So when Santana got the box open, and the girl's eyes practically burst out of their sockets, she held her breath. And when Santana looked over at her, appearing entirely baffled, she held onto hope.

"You bought me a dress." The girl spoke, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

"Yes." She answered, unable to keep the smile from her face as Santana looked back at the dress, all wide-eyed and confused.

"You bought me an amazing looking dress." Santana noted a little louder, the edges of her mouth curling up into a grin, thankfully pleased over Rachel's decision.

"Yes." She answered again, unable to contain her smile as it just grew and grew, so excited that the girl liked it.

Santana looked to her, than back at the dress for a moment, before once more matching her gaze. "You understand fashion. I'm so confused." The girl added, and Rachel couldn't help but pout because yes, she wore animal sweaters, but she liked them. That didn't mean she didn't know what looked good on other people. Still, when Santana waved her over, she rushed off the couch and toward the loveseat, leaning into the hug Santana surprisingly offered her. "Thank you, Rach. You don't know what this…" Santana started, taking a moment to either find the right words or steady her breathing, the girl clearly emotional again. It wasn't as if she'd never seen Santana cry, as the girl occasionally broke out into tears over random things, especially when drunk, but most of those had been sad tears. Rachel was pretty sure she was making some happy ones. "Kurt would be so proud of you."

Rachel couldn't help but laugh out loud at that, because it was true, the boy thought she was a lost cause. And because she could feel Santana's grip loosening around her shoulders, she took the opportunity to plant a chaste kiss against the girl's cheek. "I'm just happy you like it." She said, pulling away from the seated girl, who had this breathtakingly adoring expression on her face that Rachel desperately wanted to believe was all for her.

"I really do." Was all the answer she received, outside of another brilliant smile, and because her father was calling out to her, thanking her for another gift, she had to return to her own stack once more and finish what she'd started. Rachel just knew she'd do so while feeling infectiously happy.


	8. Chapter 8

_Afternoon of December 25_ _th_

* * *

Santana was on the couch, sitting comfortably beside Rachel with a sugar cookie in hand, and one of the girl's arms hugging her waist. No one could tear the smile off her face, she was pretty freaking sure. Seriously, it was already chalked down as the best Christmas she'd had in almost as long as she could fully remember, and it was only early afternoon. Even more, the Berrys really didn't need to do any of what they did for her; they didn't have to include her, give her gifts, or treat her like family. But they did, and while Santana wasn't exactly sure how she felt about it, it meant a lot.

The gifts had just been a bonus, but they'd shocked the hell out of her. It had been pretty conclusive from the past few years that Rachel had zero fashion sense, yet in one fell swoop, she'd challenged that notion. Santana still couldn't really believe Rachel made a good fashion decision, due to the girl's obsession with animal sweaters and everything star-related, but at least she knew Berry wasn't hopeless now. It had been really awesome, getting something that nice from Rachel; the peck on the cheek was pretty cool too, in her books. It was probably a sign of Berry now being comfortable with having that kind of affectionate deal with her, which was pretty nice.

And when she'd opened her second gift to find a framed photo of a moment where she was clearly teasing Rachel, she couldn't help but just smile as she relived the whole interaction. Berry was pouting heavily while she was grinning mischievously, LeRoy was barely stifling his laughter, and it was all set in front of a backdrop of the Rachel Berry Christmas elf sculpture; having that made permanent, made material, was just really special. Santana didn't have a lot of good Christmas memories, so it was nice to have one of the better ones available to stick on her dresser, maybe beside the photo of the glee club after their junior year sectionals or regionals win. Yes she had photos. No, she wasn't like, a huge sap or anything.

But when she got the gift certificates to Breadstix? Well, the Berry men were immediately permanent members in her good books, because a hundred dollar voucher was no joke. That was a lot of food on top of all the free breadsticks! And then the stocking had been filled with all these tiny things that were clearly Rachel's doing.

She'd reaped a few quirky bracelets, candies, chocolates, some lotion, body mist, the sort of stuff that was just plain nice to get. It was being given her favourite lip tar that really kind of blew her mind, because she'd ran out of it before her stay at the Berry home, yet somehow the diva was able to recognize the brand and colour, which was absurdly awesome and kind of really odd. Of course, it was all topped off predictably with a copy of Funny Girl, because apparently no one could deny the talents of one Barbra Streisand. Of course.

All in all, she'd been thrilled by the gifts, and understood fully well the saying that it was the thought that counted, because it was honestly what mattered most to her. Everything she got seemed suited to her, and that was about as much as she could have ever asked for. In a time of year where she felt mostly invisible, it was kind of weird and amazing that Rachel and her parents had noticed her to that degree.

And she felt pretty great about the Berrys liking her gifts as well; it wasn't often that Santana got the excuse to splurge, so she'd taken advantage of it first by getting Rachel a trench coat for when spring rolled around, along with these little gold star studded earrings. Because seriously, that girl could use some bling that didn't have Finn's name on it, and she could use something awesome to wear instead of that technicolour dream coat the diva wore in New York. And Berry had looked really excited, and rambled for a bit on the importance of portraying herself as a mature, professional adult and whatnot, so it all seemed to be a pretty good pair of decisions.

LeRoy was gifted an espresso machine that was easy to work, because the guy seriously could not continue to wage a daily war with the coffee machine. It was seriously a losing battle, and he seemed appreciative of it once she showed him how it worked; it only took him two tries to get it right, which pleased the man immensely. And a few days ago, she'd stumbled on Hiram's vinyl collection, noticing his turntable was busted beyond repair, so she'd gotten him a new one. _Seriously, anyone who owns over two hundred LPs should have something to play them…_ she mused, recalling the excited smile he gave her before discussing with Rachel about creating a playlist of albums to christen it with.

So yeah, Santana could totes be a thoughtful gift giver too, even on short notice or whatever. Anyway, it was early afternoon, and dinner was in about two and a half hours, so she was just relaxing there to pass the time. Eating cookies and getting cozy with Berry were definitely quality ways to bridge the gap, and she couldn't help but enjoy the closeness and the fact that Rachel was seriously leaning against her. It was cool, because Santana knew Berry was really affectionate and stuff like Britt, so it made sense. Besides, Rachel was pretty much a genuinely happy kind of person so all the smiling was normal too.

But when she felt Rachel's other hand rest on the top of her thigh, that got her attention quickly, and immediately had her wondering what was going on in that big diva head of hers. _Maybe she's just being, like, affectionate, and doesn't know what's normal or whatever…I know she doesn't have the most experience when it comes to friends…_

Santana decided to just cover the girl's hand with her own, basically a way of saying 'hey, thanks', and to have an insurance plan in case Rachel went against her expectations. Either way, it was pretty interesting; the happy sigh that escaped Rachel's lips put her at ease, but she was still Santana Lopez. She could smell sexual tension from a mile away, and there was definitely a hint of it. Whether Berry understood it or knew it was a different matter entirely, but it was intriguing nonetheless. _It's probably nothing…I mean, she's straight, right? I'll just keep on eating her cookies, taking her affection and shit, and let this blow over…yeah. And the best thing? I don't even have to move from where I'm sitting to put that plan in action…_ she mused to herself as she started to lift the sugar cookie to her mouth. Only, in the blink of an eye, Rachel's head popped into view, and suddenly most of the snowman sugar cookie was gone, with much of the remaining cookie crumbling to Santana's lap.

She took a few seconds to look down at the remains and mourn them, knowing they would have been really delicious if they were still all packed together in cookie form instead of crumbs. But then she remembered that there was a guilty party involved, her head spinning quickly to see a playful Rachel Berry with cookie crumbs and icing sprinkled around her mouth, grinning like a Cheshire cat. How the girl's face got so messy from a single cookie, she'd never know, but it was admittedly kind of cute, if also unbelievable. Because Rachel ate her cookie.

"You ate my cookie." Santana mumbled in disbelief; sure, the evidence was clearly in front of her, but it was still difficult to comprehend that Rachel had bit her cookie while she had been going for a bite herself. That Rachel's mouth had been pretty damn close to hers in that split second.

"We shared a cookie. There's still some left for you." Rachel noted innocently, her smile getting bigger and brighter, that weirdly playful damned twinkle in her eye from earlier when she'd handed Berry the bowl from the cupboard.

_Oh it's on…_ Santana thought to herself as she made the executive decision to not let such injustice stand. Despite nothing really making sense at the moment, and Berry being entirely fucking weird as hell, if Rachel wanted to play, she'd play. She'd teach Rachel exactly what she'd taught Quinn two years prior, that she was the queen of flirting and getting people all flustered and uncomfortable. Being a lesbian made it a lot easier with other girls, and she wasn't against using it to her advantage.

Santana maintained eye contact and brought two fingers up to her lips, thankful that her coat of lip gloss was pretty fresh enough for her to use; she grazed her fingers against the cinnamon flavoured gloss and then slowly moved them toward Rachel's face. It was amusing to watch the girl's eyes grow slightly wider, Rachel breaking eye contact to look in wonder at the two fingers that gently made contact with the corner of her mouth and wiped some crumbs and icing from the area. Santana smirked at Rachel's deep rosy blush, brought the cookie and icing coated fingers back, and stuck them in her mouth playfully to enjoy the crumbled remains of what should have been her cookie.

"W…what are you doing?" Rachel whispered meekly, sounding almost out of breath, her gaze curious and questioning.

Santana widened her smirk into a playful, amused smile. "I'm eating what's left of my cookie." She purred, making sure the Berry men weren't looking their way before leaning in and darting her tongue out to grab some icing left on Rachel's cheek. She pulled back to witness the aftermath, just barely able to mask how hilarious Berry's face was, gesturing down to her lap with her eyes. "You know, if you'd like to help me, I could use a hand."

At that, Rachel made a weird squeaking sound that Santana had honestly never heard in her life, the diva's reaction forcing all the restrained laughter out of her. It was just too much; she'd never seen Rachel so red and flustered, and it honestly felt like she'd just got some high score in something or whatever. It was awesome.

At least, until Rachel tried to make a tactical retreat, because what was that saying? 'To the victor go the spoils'? If Santana couldn't have her cookie, she'd at least have Rachel, so she grabbed a hold of the girl and pulled her adorably squeaky ass back onto the couch and snaked her limbs around the squirmy, struggling girl. "Nope, mine." She said between laughs, unable to see Rachel's face, but she knew the girl would be pouting something fierce. "You don't get to play-flirt with me and then run off when you're embarrassed, cupcake. At least not after you ate my cookie."

"Dads, help!" Rachel called out, squirming in Santana's grasp to no avail. The cheerleader knew that she could be like a python sometimes, coiling her body around others. She used to do it all the time to Quinn whenever the blonde got annoyed with her, which in turn always annoyed the girl further. At least, until Quinn eventually relented and relaxed. And Santana knew that as stubborn as Rachel was, the diva would give up the fight sooner or later.

"Sorry sweetheart, you got into this mess on your own." LeRoy laughed, earning a loud huff from the diva Santana was holding tightly in place.

Finally, after a minute or so, the fight seemed to go out of the smaller girl, or at least a little bit of it. "Santana, what will it take to get you to let me go?" Rachel asked, clearly still flustered, though also clearly a little annoyed. The pout in Berry's voice sounded like victory to Santana, though, and that was what mattered right then and there.

Santana let out an exaggerated thoughtful hum, and then another one. And then another, which earned her a second loud huff from the frustrated diva. "Well, I'm pretty comfy right here, so I could probably just keep you here for the whole two hours or so until dinner's ready, I guess." She noted cheerfully, eliciting a gasp from the diva. "Or…you could pledge any two of the available Christmas themed sugar cookies of my choosing to me, as well as spend at least twenty minutes of Lopez-Berry couch time before you leave, AND you dedicate a song in glee to how awesome of a houseguest and person I am…and maybe then you won't be stuck here for those two hours. Your call."

It was a bit of a weird series of demands, but she thought that it would be fun to see how Rachel would answer. The cookies were more or less inconsequential, given that the Berrys had all had their fair share of them thus far, with Santana only having a surprising one and a half. The glee request wasn't even all that tricky, because knowing Rachel, the diva would love the challenge of finding the perfect song to thank and praise a houseguest, and performing in glee was just a formality. Berry loved performing. It was the twenty minutes of her being stuck on the couch with her before she can leave that was what had Santana curious, because Rachel really wanted to bolt before, and Berry was one of the most stubborn, goal-oriented people she knew. And certainly not one of the most patient ones either.

The long, exaggerated sigh that escaped Rachel brought a wide victorious grin to Santana's face, the cheerleader not even put off when the diva started talking. "Ugh, fine, fine. I suppose today I've learned that the costs of interfering with your snack time are cookies, cuddles and crooning out some song in your favour." The diva stated grumpily, looking absolutely disgruntled when Santana loosened her grip enough to spin the girl around so they were facing each other. Rachel's scowl persisted for a few long seconds, but eventually wilted into a reluctant smile after Santana flashed her best, cheekiest, most ridiculous smile. _Score! Three for three…good to know if I get in trouble here, Rachel will give in just like Q and B do. Hah! And mom said that wouldn't ever work in the real world…shows what SHE knows…_

"Yep. Now come on, I don't do this one way stuff." Santana noted, playfully chiding Rachel into getting the girl to return the pseudo-affection she was showing her. She guided the smaller girl's arms to where one of them had been prior to the little bit of wrestling, teasingly nodding at Rachel in approval when Rachel rolled her eyes and gently finished slipping her arms around Santana's waist.

Satisfied, she scooted them backward a little so she could be propped up a bit against the armrest; it was kind of her spot on the couch now, and it was nice to have that bit of consistency. And when Rachel shifted ever so slightly to get a little more comfortable, her little diva head resting on Santana's collarbone, she was pretty cool with that. Though when Rachel's fingers started tracing little shapes against the small of her back, she couldn't help but wonder what Berry was thinking. _I mean, it feels nice…like…her hands are soft and they feel nice… and I'm totes comfortable right now. But…like…is this just her not knowing what's normal when giving affection, or is it payback for me winning at play-flirting? Like, a post-loss little bit of guerrilla warfare to show me I didn't totally scare her off? Hrm…meh, I'll think about it later._

Needless to say, Santana had a pretty awesome afternoon, one only made that much better by Rachel apparently forgetting that she could leave at the twenty minute mark. Not that Santana was about to point it out or complain.

* * *

_Evening of December 25_ _th_

* * *

Rachel sat at her computer desk as the digital clock flickered, twelve twenty turning to twelve twenty-one. It was long past her self-imposed bedtime, but she just wasn't tired enough for sleep. Or, truthfully, she was tired, but too wired to sleep. The whole day had been spectacular, and she honestly didn't want it to end, even though she knew the next day would certainly be fine.

Well, it was less a worry about the quality of the day so much as the absence of her fathers as a form of social instigator for them. Hiram had to work the late shift tomorrow, meaning he'd miss dinner, and LeRoy would be dealing with his usual backlog all day, which meant her dad would be home very late the next night. Basically, no fathers would be home to be a social lubricant.

So Rachel was faced with the prospect of being alone with Santana, which was just as alluring as it was scary, given her desires and their history. No one was there to take the initiative to bring them together, just as no one was there to keep her from taking a different sort of initiative. It was certainly a predicament, only compounded by her understanding that Santana did enjoy her company, but she wasn't sure if the girl welcomed her company all the time. On top of that, with Christmas over, Santana's friends would be returning soon, meaning that the cheerleader would most certainly prefer spending her ample free time with them. This all made for what Rachel considered a brief window to firmly establish Santana as her friend, at the very least, before the opportunity was lost and she was forgotten.

Sure, while she did wish for more from the girl, it seemed a bit much to expect anything of the sort, given the girl's preference for leggy blondes, something Rachel certainly wasn't, and couldn't stack up against, which had her worrying that any efforts would be in vain. Santana was notoriously picky with her selection of close friends, so the odds didn't look good for anything past that. Not that she was giving up by any means; Rachel just knew she had to be realistic, and had to find a way to overcome that reality.

And her worrying didn't make it look good that she'd be able to fall asleep any time soon, so Rachel padded downstairs and into the kitchen, deciding to have a late night snack. Maybe some fruit and a cookie or two. She poured herself a glass of water and grabbed some food, plopping down at the table to idly munch on her snack as she wondered how she would ever get Santana to be hers, or even her friend. It just seemed entirely difficult now that inclusion wasn't so much an issue, and the girl had options. It had been wonderful spending time with her all day long, even when she'd basically humiliated herself in attempting to flirt with Santana; well, it wasn't that she didn't enjoy the flirting, it was just that Santana was so much more brazen and risque than her. To Rachel, it made her feel like she was some weird sexless girl trying to win over an oddly wonderful succubus. The only thing that managed to save that afternoon for her was the fact that Santana didn't want to let her go; once Rachel clued into that, her day got a fair bit brighter.

As she was finishing her second pear, she heard a door open upstairs alongside the sound of footsteps, followed by the muted sound of the washroom door shutting. For a minute or so, she wondered if her daddy was up, but once it opened within the minute she knew it couldn't be him; he'd always take the time to read a chapter of his book. The sound of footsteps softly emanated through the house once more, coming to a halt near where they had originated, before returning and getting slightly louder as someone was slowly coming downstairs. Her back was turned, so she couldn't see who it was that was visiting her, but it didn't mean she couldn't find out.

"Why are you up?" she asked, before taking a long sip of her water, hoping this distraction would end soon so she could get back to trying to calm herself down.

"You're thinking too loud, so I'm gonna quiet all that down so both of us can sleep." Santana mumbled groggily, clearly still dazed from waking up. Rachel smiled at the words, even though she was pretty sure that the girl just realized her door was open on her way back to the guest room.

She turned and looked over her shoulder, spotting and entirely sleepy looking Santana Lopez, hair up in a messy bun, wearing an old Cheerios t-shirt and those dang mesmerizing yoga-pants. The girl's feet were bare, which must have been cold, given the tiled kitchen floor was usually freezing that time of the year. "I'm not tired, Santana." She replied, which was the truth, but it only earned her a cute lazy frown.

"You look tired." Santana noted, ever the artist of blunt honesty. "Because you are. But your mind's a mess, so let's just fix that and catch some Zs, 'kay?"

Rachel knew the girl was more or less right in her assessment, but it didn't change the fact that Santana wouldn't likely be the best person to ease her worries, considering she was the source of them. "I just have some things on my mind, but I'll be back in bed soon, I promise." Her words didn't seem to register, or maybe Santana just didn't care, because the girl just gestured for Rachel to follow her upstairs. When Rachel shook her head, declining the offer, the girl huffed, unleashing an adorably disgruntled pout.

"Whatever, cupcake. Come on." The girl requested again, this time holding her hand out for Rachel to take, the other hand too busy gently rubbing sleepy eyes. So she decided to just get up and take the offer for two reasons, the first being that she knew Santana was stubborn and wouldn't give up, and the second being that she'd honestly never seen the girl as unbearably cute as right then. Rachel reached out for the girl's hand and had to fight her urge to just pull her close into a hug, or a quick little kiss or anything else that would have likely upset or startled Santana. Despite the allure and romance that late night moments could contain, that night in the kitchen wasn't one of them, and it wasn't the right time to make her feelings known.

The first thought when she took Santana's hand was that it was really soft and warm. That thought bounced around in her head for long enough that when she had time for a second, she was wondering why they were entering the guest room.

"When I'm too busy thinkin' to sleep, sometimes I need to be somewhere new so I can just let it out." The girl explained quietly, pulling Rachel further into the room. She knew it wasn't that simple, especially since Santana was on her mind. She was about ninety nine percent sure she couldn't tell the cheerleader about any of that just yet. "Sometimes when I had sleepovers…"

Rachel waited for a few seconds for Santana to continue, the only sign that the girl wasn't asleep on her feet was the fact that her hand was being gripped just a little bit tighter. "Yes?" she asked, prodding her to continue.

"Sometimes Britt would get these revelations about the world. Like, suddenly realizing how big the world was, and that led to worries and questions and everything, and she just couldn't handle it right away." Santana continued, her voice soft and wistful, her face serene as she seemed to be mentally revisiting some of those memories. "I'd take her under the deck when the weather was warmer, or in the closet if it was too cold, because it was smaller and helped her think."

Rachel smiled at the thought, thinking that it made a lot of sense for the girl; Brittany wasn't a stupid person, she just prioritized different information, and held an innocent worldview. It wasn't difficult to imagine the girl getting scared over learning a big piece of information that maybe changed how she thought about life.

Santana sat down on the floor at the end of the bed, gently tugging Rachel down to sit with her. She complied, and crossed her legs, facing her visibly exhausted houseguest. "What's up?" the girl asked, and Rachel wasn't exactly sure how to answer that simple question. A lot of things were 'up', and she didn't know how to handle it all. However, she knew Santana was just as stubborn as she was, so she decided to be tactful and mask her worries carefully. While she hated the idea of lying to Santana, she figured that lying with a bit of truth would throw off the scent of the lie, and she needed for that to happen.

"I can't wait for spring." She answered, earning an unimpressed look from the girl sitting beside her. The cocked eyebrow was a loud enough gesture for her to understand the girl was asking her to continue explaining. "It's just…I'm excited to make use of the coat you gave me."

"You don't look excited." Santana noted flatly, spurring Rachel into a panic in fear that the girl was seeing through her ruse. It certainly seemed like it.

"I am, I love the coat, I…" She blurted out, starting a rant, but the feeling of her hand being squeezed, reminding her that they were still touching, silenced her.

"I know you liked it, and you're probably excited to wear it, but you're not excited right now. What's got you so anxious that you look like you're gonna blow chunks?" The girl asked her, a slight tug pulling Rachel to lean against her just a little bit. It was nice. It was reassuring. It also had her very aware of how close she was to the girl.

Rachel took a moment to consider her options, returning to the attempt of adding truth to a lie once more, because it was still her best chance of avoiding voicing what was on her mind. "I'm just not sure I can pull it off. That I can do it justice."

Santana scoffed in annoyance, which seemed a bit much, because it kind of was true. She pouted at the girl to show her that yeah, she was kind of being serious right there. It's a wonderful coat, and she had no idea how she was going to look good in it. "I'll show you tomorrow if you want." Santana noted with a small shrug, Rachel taken aback at the offer.

"What?" she asked, voicing the only coherent word bouncing through her mind at the time.

"Yeah, whatever. I'll show you how to make it work tomorrow, it's no biggie. I wouldn't have bought you it if I didn't think you could rock it." Santana's offer just seemed so foreign, so out of the blue, and so entirely similar to the sort of activity one does to bond with friends. Which had her excited a bit.

"Does that mean I'll be getting a makeover?" Sure, her voice was a bit manic sounding, perhaps, and she may have been a little over-eager, but she couldn't help it if that all sounded like it would help her establish a friendship with the girl. Though the thought of Santana having effectively read her to the point of finding and offering what she wanted to help her get to sleep was also a nagging concern. Rachel knew she was transparent at the best of times, and hoped her feelings weren't on full display right then.

"Uh…I was just thinking about putting an outfit together or whatever but…you think you need a makeover too?" Santana seemed more curious now, eyeing Rachel up suspiciously, taking in every subtle movement, every second of silence it was taking her to respond, as if it would reveal her true desires.

She composed herself as best she could, knowing she needed to pull that answer off to sell her lie. Acting had never been so difficult before. "Well, I don't NEED one, I'm just not confident that I can pull off a good look with the coat with my current look, and that I might need more than clothes." She replied, hoping she was convincing enough, because a lot of that was true, she had body image issues. She just had a little more potent Santana issues, was all.

Santana nodded slowly, her gaze never leaving Rachel's. "Fine. I'll give you a makeover or whatever." The girl noted nonchalantly, which had Rachel smiling widely at the offer, feeling it would be a great way to solidify their budding friendship. However, her smile froze when Santana continued. "But…"

Rachel waited on edge for the girl to continue, hoping the condition wouldn't be too difficult or unfortunate. She knew the girl could provide a lot of conditions to the offer, but felt that she'd do what it took to win her over. At least, so long as her demands were along the same lines of what happened earlier that afternoon.

"…after we get that out of the way, you have to go to Breadstix with me tomorrow, because we'll be home alone and when I cook for two people I end up making way too much or way too little." Santana seemed entirely content with her decision, and Rachel couldn't help but be as well, even if it was a big surprise. Dinner with a girl she kind of really liked? Dinner with Santana at her favourite restaurant? There wasn't anything to even think over.

"I'd love to." She noted with a bright smile, feeling ecstatic about the promise of spending so much time with the girl. It was nice to imagine herself all dolled up with Santana's help, which she knew was probably the only way the girl would want to be seen out with her at such a nice restaurant, alone; animal sweaters just didn't seem like anything the cheerleader would deem acceptable during dinner out. _Still, though…dinner out with Santana…that's really exciting!_

She watched a sleepy smile grow on the girl's face, more than a little relief in Santana's happy sigh. "Good, it's settled. And maybe there, you can tell me what's really bugging you."

Rachel froze in place, not having expected that sort of off-handed accusation, given her houseguest's happy demeanor. "Wh…what I brought up IS what's bothering me." She stammered out hastily, but if the shrug Santana gave was anything to go by, the girl didn't believe her, and neither did she really care to pry.

"I won't press or shit, but if you ever feel you want to or whatever, you can talk to me." The offer was a sweet one, one that had her heart fluttering a teensy bit. It was just that she didn't JUST want to talk to Santana. She wanted to maybe use the girl's lips for something different, but didn't know how she could even bring that up, especially with how red she was blushing by only thinking about it.

"Thank you for the offer, Santana…we're both pretty tired, why don't we go to bed?" she asked, earning a nod from the sleepy girl. Santana got to her feet, pulling Rachel up with her before leading her out and into the diva's room. It was a nice gesture, bringing her to bed, and she felt a distinct sense of loss when her hand was let go at the edge of the bed. "Thank you." She whispered, slipping underneath the covers and getting comfortable.

Rachel just barely stifled her gasp when she felt Santana lay down on top of her comforter, basically spooning her in a way, the girl's arm gently hugging the sheet-covered mound that was her body.

"Wh…what are you do…doing?" she stuttered, unsure of what was happening, what was being offered. It was difficult not getting her hopes up.

"You fell asleep with me before on the couch, so I'll stay with you until you fall asleep, if you want." Santana explained in whispered tones, giving her a nice little squeeze. "And I know you're anal about getting an appropriate amount of hours of quality sleep, which is necessary for the recovery and wellness of your body and mind." The little spiel was definitely a welcome bit of teasing, even if sleep was no laughing matter to Rachel. And even if her verbosity wasn't something she's ever felt apologetic about.

So she smiled, and turned around enough to plant a well-deserved lingering kiss on Santana's check, before flipping back over and resuming their positions. "I like when you're sweet." She noted softly, feeling a little brave at the moment, her mind quickly slipping off into slumber, entirely content and at ease in Santana's arms.

"Yeah, well, whatever." Santana mumbled adorably, sounding entirely flustered and confused over how to follow that up. Besides, it wasn't like her houseguest could deny it, not when Santana was hugging her close. And sure, her mind had been storming with thoughts even as they had entered her room, but she was calm now. Santana's steady, warm breaths against her neck were all she wanted to focus on, and soon she slipped away into a comfortable sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

_Afternoon of December 26_ _th_

* * *

Santana Lopez slept the fuck in. Seriously, she'd gotten up in the middle of the night to get something to drink, her mouth and throat feeling like a desert, and tap-water had been the closest oasis. It was on her way back from getting that wonderful relief that she'd realized Berry was awake and downstairs, judging by the kitchen light having been on. So she'd gone down there and hauled the weirdo back upstairs, because it was totes past her bedtime, and Berry was pretty much a sleep fiend.

It hadn't taken much to tell the girl was about two steps away from going crazy with worry, and eventually she'd gotten some info out of her, but all it really told her was that Rachel was definitely lying to her about something. Which, sure, was completely alright. Santana was just a nosy person by nature, and Berry deserved privacy for her own thoughts; it just didn't change that she was a little worried about the tiny singer and how troubled she'd looked.

And sure, Santana knew that Rachel had body image issues, it was a big reason why she and Quinn had keyed in on them when they used to bully her. Nearly every insult was based on the girl's looks and body, as it was easier to target existing insecurities than creating new ones. She wasn't stupid enough to believe she and the blonde had been entirely harmless in that, and figured they'd likely just exacerbated the damage across the years, something she felt a fair bit of regret over, if she were to be honest.

But there was something else going on with Berry, and that meant she'd keep an eye on the girl throughout the days ahead to make sure she was okay. Ever since the diva declined Finnept's proposal, and the lumbering idiot promptly left her for one of the junior cheerios, Melissa maybe, Rachel had more or less been left with a dearth of close friends. So after all that Berry and her family had done for her out of the good of their own hearts, she'd show Rachel the kindness that she deserved. Well, maybe a different sort of kindness, because Santana wasn't a damn sugarplum fairy like Rachel.

Anyway, she woke just a little past noon after finally having gotten a decent sleep, and promptly made her way downstairs to grab some leftovers. Rachel was clearly practicing her vocals upstairs, so since she was busy and Hiram was catching an extra few hours of sleep, Santana decided to go into the living room and started doing her regular yoga workout. She figured that with all the awesome food she ate, even if most of it was vegan, she could work off some extra calories. As per usual, she mentally thanked Britt for getting her into yoga all those years ago, knowing it helped with her gymnastics, her cheerleading, and certainly helped her reign between the sheets. Not that that was of great importance at the moment, though.

After moving through the motions of her workout for about a half an hour, Santana started transitioning into king pigeon before she'd eventually start cooling down and everything. She was mid-pose, holding it, when she became aware of her visitor.

"Holy moly." It was breathless and barely audible, but she knew that voice anywhere; briefly, her eyes flicked over to where Rachel was standing, finding the girl entirely red-faced and blatantly ogling her. At least, intently enough to not realize she'd been caught.

Santana suppressed a smirk, because she'd seen the heated expression before, just never from Rachel Barbra Berry of all people. It was interesting, to say the least, and had a few recent events making a little more sense. Pretending she hadn't noticed the girl yet, she closed her eyes and let out a tiny little mewl of a moan as she extended the stretch slightly, fighting a smile from the loud, hitched breath of the diva. She didn't want to tease the girl too much, though, so she transitioned as fluidly as she could into downward facing dog, holding the pose for a number of seconds.

It was kind of awesome to hear how labored Rachel's breathing was; yeah, she had that effect on guys all the time, but girls were a different story. Brittany would just happily ogle her, and would look at her body appreciatively, but she'd never felt her skin feel warm from the heated stares of a girl before. Combine that with the weird, gibberish words the diva was mumbling, and Santana couldn't help but feel a little flattered. She braved a glance at the girl once more, realizing Rachel hadn't moved an inch, the girl's feet still in the exact same spot as before, right at the door-frame.

Feeling kind of confident now, Santana decided to extend the act just a tiny bit more, leaving the pose and simply sitting down, facing away from Rachel. She figured that it would give the girl a chance to approach safely under the false notion that she hadn't seen or heard the diva. She took a sip out of her water bottle as she waited, and soon enough she heard light footsteps moving away from her, followed by Rachel's voice.

"Hey, Santana? I was wondering if you were interested in…" Rachel started, her footsteps loudly approaching the living room, likely once again stopping at the doorframe as words trailed from the diva's mouth for a moment. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know you were busy."

It was sloppy, but Santana smiled at the idea of her getting Berry off balance to such a degree. She looked over her shoulder and shot the red-faced diva a her bright, amused smile. "I just finished my yoga for the day, so ask away."

Rachel's right hand immediately went to fiddle with the hem of the black and white rabbit-patterned sweater, and Santana had to refrain from showing her clear amusement at how nervous the girl was. "I was wondering…well, I wanted to know if maybe I could take you up on your offer from last night?" Rachel asked meekly, not looking as if she expected a positive answer. Which, really, was bullcrap because Santana's word was golden.

"Yeah." She answered with a nod, which had the diva reeling a little in shock, her wide brown eyes staring at her questioningly. "I just have to shower first, but then we can get down to business."

Rachel stood there for a moment, letting it all sink in for a bit or something, before allowing herself a shy smile. It was an awesome smile, and Santana admittedly liked making it happen. Deciding the matter was settled, Santana stood up and took a drink from her water bottle, strategically showing her profile to Berry, before capping the lid, rolling up her mat, and sashaying past the diva. She took pleasure in how she nearly brushed up against the girl, hearing the hitch in Rachel's breath as she passed. Let it never be said that Santana Lopez was innocent and pure, not with her grinning devilishly as she walked upstairs, a plan forming in her mind.

Quickly, she set a change of clothes on her bed, then jumped into the upstairs washroom for a shower. It always felt pretty damn good after yoga, the warm jets of water against her muscles, and she was thankful that she had as much time as she wanted. Still, she was in and out in about fifteen, and had herself mostly dried off by the twenty minute mark, her body wrapped haphazardly in a towel.

Smirking to herself, she opened the door and called out into the hallway. "Hey, Rach? I forgot my change of clothes in the guest room, can you get them for me?" Almost immediately, she heard Rachel scurrying about, the hasty pitter-pattering of feet nearly hilarious, because it seriously wasn't an urgent matter, but Berry apparently thought it was. At least, until she heard them halt in her guest room for about a half minute. Santana wondered what exactly was going through the girl's mind at that moment, but it didn't last long, Rachel quickly scampering over to the now closed washroom door, giving a polite knock.

Santana opened the door, her towel hanging loosely off of her body, her breasts doing most of the grunt work to keep it all in place. Rachel's eyes bulged out immediately, the girl biting down on her plump lips perhaps a bit too hard, with her arms immediately stretched out in offering. Deciding not to hurry things, Santana leaned against the door, letting the contact between her body and the wood hold her towel up, and slowly took hold of the offered clothes.

"Thank you. I'll be over in a bit." She said politely, using her sweetest, most naturally innocent voice. Rachel, of course, took that as an excuse to evacuate the premises, darting off toward her room as quickly as her legs could carry her. If she'd learned much during her stay, it was that Berry was just too much fun when she was all flustered and embarrassed, and Santana had to bite her cheek to keep her laughter in check. Honestly, she'd never really enjoyed hurting the diva in the past, it was just something expected of her. And when she got to know the girl a bit through glee, teasing her and playfully poking fun at her were a hell of a lot more fun. But with Berry showing some interest in her? Well, it was intriguing, and more than a little unexpected.

_Okay, so maybe Berry has a kind of crush on me or something? Or maybe she just thinks I'm hot?_ She wondered openly, as she started getting changed, her mind drifting over her past encounters with the girl. _I mean, she's no Quinn, but she is attractive. And, like, I'm totes the hottest girl at school, Quinn is pretty much the perfect American beauty, and Rachel…she's kind of really cute and adorable, but sometimes she can look sexy. I mean, that Def Leppard and Bon Jovi mash-up we did? She was smoking. And the funk number we did in front of Vocal Adrenaline? She looked kind of really delicious…_

Santana wasn't blind or an idiot, she knew Berry was hiding a nice body under those weird sweaters. She was a lady lover, she knew these things, though it didn't hurt that she was aware Rachel was in all of Britt's dance classes. Either way, she knew Rachel could pull off that trench coat, and that the girl's body was deserving of being decorated nicely.

_I mean…she's going to be hilarious to tease from now on, but…I mean…well…is that all I want to do?_ She mused to herself, thinking back to a bevy of memories from the past few days. _I just really like hanging out with her, I guess…and she's totes comfy when her hands and feet aren't at sub-zero temps. Rachel's a bit ridiculous, but, like…in a good way. I mean, who motorboats their friend's tits? Seriously?! Fuck, it was hilarious as hell, but it DID feel good. She's funny like that, I guess…not Britt funny or Quinn funny, but weird Rachel Berry funny with a healthy dose of naïveté and exuberance. And she, like, she was HOT yesterday morning. Smoldering. I mean, fuck, I'd take her to the damn beach to have fun or whatever, but I'd kinda love to get some beach volleyball action on, clean her off in the waves, and just…I bet she'd look so hot just fucking glistening and her hair all disheveled and wet and…and she'd look like that after every shower too. Showers she has here. Every day…_

Santana gripped the edge of the sink hard and let her mind wander to what that would be like; she'd never seen the girl naked before, so she had to imagine. The diva was softer than Britt, certainly not as strong, but Rachel was a different build. The girl wasn't a cheerleader, she wasn't a gymnast, but she was built for endurance. She'd heard stories from Quinn of all people that Finn used to get bored with Rachel during summer because sometimes the girl would just feel like doing a marathon on her elliptical, and wouldn't quit if he'd called her up wanting to hang out. So Santana knew the girl had some muscle tone, and could imagine it being hidden just underneath a layer of soft, supple skin. She didn't need to imagine Rachel's legs, those were known factors; the girl had some damn fine gams on her. Rachel's upper half was more of a mystery, though, with those damned sweaters so often hiding everything away. Even after their walk to look at Christmas lights, Rachel had made sure Santana was facing her back when removing her sweater, so she hadn't seen or felt anything to give her a clue. For all she knew, Berry could be wearing a compressive sports bra under there, or a push-up, and it all left her with an unsolved mystery that, while the result would be great any way, had her curious. And maybe the occasionally sexual glee performances had gotten her a little hot and bothered in the past, and maybe sometimes she would have liked to just abduct the girl, and drag her to the nearest washroom. _And…fuck, Rachel Berry is hot…_

The realization hit Santana like a brick wall, and she kind of had to sit down on the toilet seat to sort her mind out, because Rachel had always been weird. And a few months ago, the girl had been amusing and sweet. And more recently, she'd been cute, endearing, funny and adorable. Now, though, Santana couldn't deny that Berry was a fine piece of woman, not with how her body was reacting to mere thoughts. Thoughts that had existed before, but never really stuck hard enough to resonate as anything serious; thoughts which had her admitting there was at the very least an attraction of sorts. _Fuck. Fuck my life, fuck my life, I JUST got out of the shower, too! It's like God's mocking me or something! UGHH and I have to, like, dress her and shit! I mean…wait. Wait. I get to dress her up._ The realization that she had some situational control to figure out what was under those sweaters was a merciful bonus, given the frustrating position she was put in. _Still…let's calm down for a sec. I'm getting Rachel all dressed up in a coat, so chances are I won't get answers, but…I might. And if not today…well, Rachel's, like, into me, right? And I mean…okay, I'm kind of into her too. I guess. I mean she's, like, sweet and happy and full of weird diva energy. And she's got, like, the biggest heart, and she CARES about me, weirdly enough, so I don't really have to doubt that or anything because she's a horrible liar. And she's easy to be around, and she's a music nerd like me, and we work really well together. And when she's not super high strung, I can handle her divatude pretty well and everything…her crazy isn't all that bad or whatever. I mean…she's a bit of a psycho when she's out caroling, but that was kind of funny and endearing in a sort of embarrassing way, except her ridiculous smiles and laughter kind of killed that embarrassment dead. And she's comfy. And hot. And smart. And doesn't really take my shit, which would probably keep me honest. And her family's awesome. And she bakes delicious cookies. And maybe…maybe Rachel would be, like…well, I could do worse. Much worse. I'd get to tease her all the time, relentlessly, and totes get away with it, and…but... she still might be straight, and just have a tiny girl crush on me. I mean, it's what happened with Quinn, right? Rachel could be the same. Right. I mean, I WAS right there, basically naked, and if Rachel wanted all up on this, she probably would have jumped me. She's, like, always pretty forward with that kind of stuff, right? Yet every time I flirt, she runs away, or tries to. Yeah...  
_

Santana sighed at that stray thought, ultimately scuttling any excitement and hopeful wonder over the prospect of maybe working toward getting a consistent thing down with Rachel. _Friends…friends is still good, though. I can do that, and it'll be fun._ She finished drying herself off, did her hair, and changed into her long sleeved green and black dress that had these little crossing diagonal bandage accents on it that totes showed off the shape of her ass. Hey, Rachel had paid clear attention to it earlier both during yoga and as she walked away upstairs. Still, though, she didn't want to give the girl an aneurysm; she tossed on her black leather vest which pretty much covered her cleavage, and then proceeded over to Rachel's room.

The girl was practically the picture of anxiety, sitting on her bed, looking like she was about to have a panic attack. The diva's hands were kneading the comforter to the point where she thought it might actually tear soon, the girl's face was pale, her eyes were wide and unfocused, and Rachel looked like she was shaking. It all seemed a bit over the top, because it wasn't that big of a deal, doing any of what they had planned.

"Rach, just take a deep breath and relax. It's not like I'm going to eat you or anything." She couldn't help but throw in the teasing comment, and though it caused the diva's face to bloom red, it did seem to calm her down, the girl taking a deep breath before flopping backward onto the bedspread. "We'll find out what clothes to wear first, I figure."

Rachel nodded anxiously as she sat up, looking over at the coat that was laid out beside her on the bed. Santana marched over to the girl's closet and peeked inside, wincing at the sight of all the animal sweaters as well as the lack of what she had hoped to see. Sure, she knew Rachel's fashion preferences were questionable at the best of times, but she thought the girl would have at least a few versatile options. _I guess I'll have to improvise…_ she thought to herself as she considered her options.

Quickly, she grabbed a pair of black ankle boots, checking their size before dropping them back onto the floor. It wasn't a huge surprise that Berry was only half a size smaller than her; the girl wasn't all that shorter than her, but the diva's footwear always looked like it was pretty close to her size. Scouring the girl's drawers, she pulled out a pair of opaque black tights, and a black ribbed turtleneck that she was pretty sure Rachel hadn't wore since sophomore year. On top of that she grabbed a grey miniskirt that, while one of Rachel's usual modest tweed numbers, at least wasn't plaid. Taking what she retrieved, she set them aside on the bed and made her way downstairs to the foyer; Santana knew Rachel needed footwear, so she decided the girl could borrow her black suede boots that she wore on their trip to Columbus. On impulse, she took a pair of dark brown leather gloves, because if Berry didn't have an issue with them, they'd fit the outfit perfectly.

As soon as she passed the doorframe back into Rachel's room, she pointed at the nervous looking girl. "Strip." Now, Santana could have been more tactful with her approach, but whatever, it was funny enough to see Berry look frantically between her and the newly expanded pile of clothes. And, if luck was shining on her, Rachel would go along with it.

"What?" the girl asked in a hushed, broken whisper, her big brown eyes on full display in their shock and anxiety.

"Well, I should see you first so that I'll know if I made the right call. Fashion's about accenting the body, so seeing the body is kind of one of those crucial things, Rach." Santana remarked with a smirk, wondering where that aggressive Rachel went from Christmas morning; it wasn't as if she didn't like the flustered, embarrassed version of Berry, but she liked seeing the girl confident and sure of herself. She was kinda hot either way, but confident flirtatious Rachel was very much hot enough to send smoke signals or whatever.

Unfortunately, Rachel clearly wasn't ready for any sort of nudity in front of her, which was kind of disappointing, but perhaps a little expected. The girl was sitting there on the bed, her eyes wide as she tugged at the hem of her sweater and mumbled words that Santana couldn't quite make out, seeming to be stuck in a state of shock. And like that, her amusement shifted to concern, because maybe Rachel's self esteem over her body was worse than she expected.

Santana walked further into the room and knelt on the bed, gaining Berry's attention quickly with a hand at the small of the girl's back. "Hey, if you'd feel better changing in the ensuite, then go for that. I wasn't thinking of you for a second, so if you can't change in front of me, that's cool with me. I'm sure you'll own that outfit, anyway."

Rachel nodded, her hand blindly reaching for the pile of clothes, pulling it closer to her. "I'm sorry… I won't take long, Santana." The girl mumbled, getting up and off the bed. The apology caught Santana off guard, and she just barely caught hold of the girl's hand before she was out of reach.

"Berry, don't say sorry when there's nothing to be sorry for." She stated firmly, looking the meek girl in the eyes, trying to convey that she felt bad for pushing the girl. "Now go get changed so I can tell you about how awesome I am for helping you go from cute, weird high-schooler to mature, elegant Broadway star."

Rachel's eyebrows quirked up, the girl's face twisting in uncertainty. "Elegant?"

"Totes elegant, cupcake. Now get in there and prove me right, Miss Berry." Santana shot back with an encouraging smile, unsure where the warmth in her tone came from, but she wasn't about to think too hard about it. Not when Rachel reacted with this small, shy smile and this subtle pink tint to her cheeks. It had been so long since she'd thrown out any level of charm, so long that she hadn't realized at the time that she'd turned it on a little bit. But seeing the impact it had, Santana couldn't really be upset. Admittedly, it was nice.

It was nice to know that she could affect people like that without the use of her body and sexuality. Outside of Brittany, that hadn't really happened, but she supposed that charming the blonde with facts about ducks wasn't entirely comparable with charming Berry through compliments.

_Compliments…When the hell was the last time I ever gave compliments to people who weren't Britt or Quinn? Or my parents? Maybe…well, my uncle when he revamped that old car of his, because it looked pretty okay, but that was a few years ago…_ Her mind slowly traversed her memories for other examples, coming up short on meaningful ones. It was a peculiar sensation, recalling that look on Rachel's face. On one hand, it felt kind of awesome to do that with words, and non-sexual words at that. On the other hand, an undertone of worry kept seeping through as a familiar fear emerged.

Santana had, for a good while, kept herself from looking like she cared about things. Hell, she even tried not to care about a lot of things, and sometimes she was successful. It wasn't that she wanted to be a robot or whatever, it's just that it was easier, and safer; people couldn't hurt her as easily. People couldn't disappoint her as easily. And if she cared, people wouldn't fear her so much, which would mean more people might want to get back at her, bully her, or worse, know her. It was easier being the only person in the world to know her shortcomings, her insecurities, and her dreams, and if people got close enough, they'd be able to see them too. And that was damn terrifying.

Yet, if she was to be honest, she'd already let Rachel get a glimpse. She'd let the little diva past her public persona, even if just a little bit, and she had no regrets. And maybe if she showed more, that would change, but she was feeling good right now. Was she a little freaked out and scared? Sure. But she wasn't hurt, she wasn't disappointed, she wasn't a revenge victim or being bullied, and hell, Berry had NEVER been scared of her. Ever. So that didn't even matter. And Santana knew that Berry could care enough for the both of them, given how big the diva's heart was. And maybe that's why it was easier to stomach the fear and focus on that weird, nebulous positive feeling running through her. And maybe she was considering being more open with the girl, though whether it was a desire to connect, or a need to test, she wasn't sure. Knowing her fucked up mind, it was probably both.

Santana sat there for at least ten agonizing minutes before the ensuite door opened, Rachel exiting the bathroom looking all nervous and shy and everything. Everything Santana had hoped and imagined Berry would look like, at least. She swallowed back this feeling that felt a lot like pride and satisfaction, and pushed herself off the bed and to her feet, needing to see more.

"Can you turn around for me?" she requested, not even caring about how soft her voice was at the moment. It was as if Rachel was on the cusp of finally, finally looking like the person she'd always been, and it seemed like an important moment to capture for some reason.

The diva took her cue, slowly rotating herself, the trench coat flattering her body perfectly, its flared lower half making the girl look every bit the Manhattan princess she was sure to be in the coming years. It was perfect. Well, almost. It would have been if not for Rachel looking entirely insecure, and the diva's hair.

"Why'd you tie your hair up?" Santana asked, though quickly held up a hand as a show that it was a rhetorical question. Sure, showing off her neck was awesome, but that outfit wasn't the right fit for that. It was made for long hair, so she pulled off the girl's hair elastic and fluffed her hair out.

"Did you really need to do that? My hair's probably a mess, and…" Rachel began, and it sucked, because everything was just so exactly right except for how Rachel was thinking. Santana really tried to consider how the girl could think she wasn't totes owning that outfit, she even tried for four whole seconds, but it still left her baffled.

"The coat and the black make you look more professional, which is great and all, and what we want, but if you want to rock it…you'll wear your hair down, and you'll show a glimpse of your diva side." She interrupted, earning a skeptical gaze and a grimace from the smaller girl.

"I'm hardly rocking this, Santana." Rachel muttered, and that was it. Santana wasn't known for her patience, and she'd had enough. She'd even follow the diva's plan, though altering bits to make it more of a rescue mission, because fuck everything. She was going to TRY for Rachel, because the girl and her family had been trying for her for the past week and a bit.

"Whatever, it looks great, so do you. But you don't look convinced, so do you actually want that makeover thing you asked about?" She asked, earning a shy nod from the diva, who was too busy looking at her feet and biting her lip to spot the frustrated scowl on Santana's face. "Alright, go sit on the toilet, I'll be right in."

Quickly, she exited the room and retrieved her own makeup kit, as well as her collection of hair tools and supplies _. At least I'm working on a blank slate…I'm pretty sure she's only got moisturizer on right now._ She mused as she entered Rachel's ensuite and stood in front of the diva.

Her sole initial request was that the diva closed her eyes through it all, which was followed to the letter, something she appreciated. Initially, after basic skincare, she added a bit of concealer under Rachel's eyes, ignoring much else but the basics for makeup due to Berry's ridiculously good complexion. However, Santana knew the girl was expecting something, so she applied a nice, neutral look to the girl's face, just lightly accenting her features, while giving the girl a pretty subtle smoky eye. It was all a little more product intensive than she'd hoped, especially around the eyes, but it didn't look like it, thankfully. She did very light contouring, enough to put more focus on the girl's face without altering the girl's nose to any noticeable degree. Because Berry didn't need contouring; she wasn't a traditional beauty, but her face was proportional and pretty alright. And kind of pretty too. After a while, she washed her brushes and closed up shop, only doing a little heat-styling to the diva's hair to add a bit of shape and volume.

"Keep your eyes closed." She noted as she lifted the girl off the toilet by her hands, leading Rachel into the bedroom and to the full-length mirror. Once Santana had the girl positioned just so, she let go and stepped away. "You can open your eyes now."

Rachel's immediate reaction was shock, her widening eyes the only discernible expression on the diva's face for the initial moment or two. Then the confusion hit. "I look like I usually do." The girl said with sadness palpable in her voice, clearly disappointed.

"You didn't need a crazy damn makeover." Santana sighed and shook her head, having hoped beyond hope that the girl would have seen if she had been given another chance. Instead, everything was the same, and she'd have to continue her plan. Rachel looked over at her, visibly perturbed now, but a quick pointed glare had the diva reeling a little. "All you have to do is be your usual berry confident self, like I know you can be, and you'll fucking own that outfit. Because a mature Rachel Berry is just kid Rachel Berry who knows how to dress for the success she knows she's gonna have soon enough in New York. So if you're demoralized by a trench coat of all things, how are you going to be able to handle Broadway?"

Rachel was shocked once again, even if only for a moment, before a flare of anger erupted across her face. "You can leave if you're just going to tear me down like usual, Santana."

Santana couldn't help but unleash a frustrated growl at the girl's remark. It was as if Berry was living in some weird dream land where the last few days hadn't happened, where them being friends hadn't happened, and that wasn't okay at all. It kind of actually hurt. Okay, it admittedly really did hurt, especially with how unexpected the remark had been. "Berry, you have to believe in yourself, okay? I'm not the one scared of a fucking coat!" It was infuriating that Rachel was just submitting so easily to certain 'truths', and she knew she'd have to push the girl. For the first time, she'd have to push Rachel Berry, and it was pretty damn scary, because Santana wasn't sure how it'd turn out. She didn't know the girl well enough to know her limits, and really didn't want to break her completely.

"It's more than that, it's more than a coat, Santana." Rachel retorted with an unnerving calm that betrayed the girl's anger and defeat, only one of which Santana wanted the diva to harness.

"I know it is! But guess what?! You sing like a fucking angel, you own the damn stage, and yet you wear those stupid animal sweaters like fucking armor because you think you're hideous and that you're just your damned voice!" She yelled, her frustrations pouring out at the frozen girl before her, Rachel's face twisting in anguish and anger now. "I can't take it anymore, it's like you think you have to become this entirely different person or shit to be pretty or loved or whatever! But maybe you're right…maybe you're not good enough, not pretty enough, not tall enough, not feminine enough, not mature enough. So hey, considering you're still this obviously deformed and freakish version of you, seeing as you didn't take the chance at getting a REAL girl's nose last year, I was wondering…it's still the holidays, so can you crack me some nuts with that beak of yours, or do I have to go find your dad's nutcracker? And what, is there a casting call for a men's razor commercial filming in Columbus, or something? Because you had a bit of five o'clock shadow when I got close enough to notice it, Berry. But I'm sure even when you don't get the part because they're looking for more metrosexual and less FREAK, they'll give you a free razor to handle your treasure trail to spare anyone in the future from that scarring experience. And at least it'll be a men's razor, because your manly jungle of public and leg hair would destroy a real woman's one. And in Cleveland, I think there might be a production of Cabaret casting roles, so maybe you can sign up as the lead for that pitiful shit-show if you lose a little weight. Okay, maybe a good fifteen pounds. A LOT of weight. Leave it to you to mimic sophomore Quinn's gut, but at least she was knocked up and had an excuse."

Santana took a deep breath and continued to steel herself against Rachel's reaction, though her heart couldn't help but clench at the tears welling in the girl's eyes. And maybe she stifled a whimper when she saw Rachel's jaw quivering. And maybe she hated herself a little bit more every time her words seemed to cause material, physical pain. Santana only hoped that the damage would be reversed soon enough. That Rachel would see.

"You're so pathetically desperate, always wanting people too much, too pitiful to insist on others meeting you halfway, so instead you go as far as you can, and you fall like a fucking rock every time, and it's fitting. You're like a piece of trash entering the atmosphere…you think you're a star, others might be fooled too for maybe a second, but you're already burning up in the atmosphere, and you'll crash back to earth and reality real soon after. And then? The only applause you'll be getting will be over at Wheeler's during karaoke night, maybe winning twenty dollars for all those years spent on your stupid dreams. But maybe you can drown your sorrows with your failure of a mother…wait, she didn't want you, and she definitely wouldn't like to admit that failure runs in the family. Better to keep your disappointed faggot fathers company, then, if they can even stand to look at the disappointment they raised. God, who would ever want you?" She continued, each word laced with just the kind of venom that she was immensely familiar with, knowing that Rachel needed to hear it. That the diva needed to feel it, and to face it head on.

Rachel was full on crying now, tears streaming down her cheeks as her whole body shook with silent sobs. Santana was happy that she chose to use her best mascara on those lashes, though she knew they couldn't withstand an hour long sob-fest, so the clock was ticking. Deciding to take it to the next level, she walked up to Rachel, firmly grabbing the girl's wrists and forcing her up against the wall. She held tightly as the diva tried to fight her hold, but she was stronger, had more leverage, and certainly had more control over her body.

"People will tear you apart out there! They'll hate you, and they'll say awful things, and they'll destroy you until there's nothing left! And you won't be able to walk away from them, midget!" She roared, happy to be eliciting more anger from the diva; the pint-sized singer was really putting her all into escaping Santana's hold, to no avail. "What are you gonna do about it, yeti? You gonna accept your fucking fate? Let us tear you down piece by piece until there's nothing of value left? Which basically just means your voice, but hey, Lima losers are simple like that, I'm sure you'll understand when you're teaching history to ninth graders, scared of any reminder that you thought you could actually BE someone!" Santana tactically slackened her grip at the end of her vicious rant; it was something that she would have been proud of in theory given the extensive material covered, knowing Berry would be the only one able to take every single syllable to heart. She needed the girl to hear everything that people in her future would be throwing her way, Rachel needed to be able to tell fact from fiction. And that tiny spark in Berry's eye let her know she made the right choice, taking one for the team.

The impact of Rachel's palm on her face was best described as fierce, knocking Santana off balance a little, the cheerleader stumbling backward to grab a hold onto the edge of the bed to keep from falling. The gasp that burst from Berry's mouth was predictable, but she couldn't let the girl let go of that energy so quickly. Not yet.

Santana nodded enthusiastically and shot Rachel a big, sincere smile. "Fuck yes! There's that fire!" she cheered, happy to see that despite the emergence of Berry looking horrified, there was still a hefty amount of anger and anguish left. "You don't go down without a fight, Rachel. You never have before, and you won't now. You'll walk fucking tall, you'll sing your fucking heart out, and you'll wear shit like this because you're fucking beautiful and they can NEVER take that away from you unless you believe all the haters. They're going to tell you so many fucking lies and they're going to try to undermine you with hate to give themselves a chance against you. But they're all freaking idiots and jealous as fuck, so own it! You're going to go to that fucking city and OWN it! You're Rachel fucking Berry, goddamn it!" She yelled out, voicing both her frustration and her panic over openly admitting her thoughts on the pint-sized singer. But honestly, that felt more relieving and cathartic than most things she'd done lately, so she continued. "Your hands are smaller than mine or whatever, and so are your feet, you know? Your nose fits your face and it's smaller than a lot of famous Broadway actresses. Kristen Chenowyth is less than five feet tall, and like, a quarter of that height is her forehead. None of them are the fucking 'ideal' all-American beauty, but they all make do, and if you just believe in yourself, not just in your damn voice, you'll make it. For fuck's sake, you know you can do this. We both do."

Now, Rachel was still crying something serious, but the girl's face had gone neutral midway through her recent spiel. Berry seemed to wait for just the right amount of dramatic pause before responding in kind and, not unpredictably, with a question of her own. "You think I'm beautiful?" the girl asked meekly, her voice strained and cracking from the tears and still active sobs wracking her body. Santana wished the girl's eyes were open so that she could see what was going on in Berry's head, but they were clenched shut in a failed attempt to stem the tears.

"Of course you're freaking beautiful, but you shouldn't need me to tell you that when all you need to do is look in the damn mirror." She complained, letting out a soft, frustrated sigh that Berry still needed her validation in some form. It wasn't right, and while she knew there was never an instant fix, she had yet to bring about any moment of clarity. And really, she wasn't about to leave that room without Rachel getting a damn glimpse at reality.

Rachel at least took the cue to look in the mirror right next to her, the girl's puffy red eyes taking her reflection in once more.

"God, you're..." Santana breathed out, shaking her head at herself again for almost not filtering her rampant thoughts, but also for it all just being so freaking tragic. She hadn't expected to be capable of that kind of harm over the years. She knew it was on her, but she hadn't ever expected that scope. So if she were to be Rachel's friend, she'd be a fucking awesome one like she was for Quinn and Britt, and she'd get Berry fully believing in herself eventually. "You're, like, beautiful, okay? You don't need anything. It's why I didn't give you crazy makeup or hair or any of that crap. You look good, and in a few months, you'll be walking around Manhattan in an outfit like this, strutting your ass around, and you're not only gonna fit right in with all the theatre nerds, you'll have some arm candy, because over there, people won't give you shit for being talented or having gay dads. They're gonna want to be around you, and be your friend, not just because you're going places, but because they'll genuinely like you. And some are gonna fucking love you. You just gotta realize you're hot shit NOW before you leave, because I don't want you settling for just anyone like you did with Finn."

Rachel only nodded, her eyes focused on Santana instead of herself, the girl looking entirely too overwhelmed with emotions to really focus on any one. _At least she nodded…I don't give motivational speeches almost ever, and I should get flowers and thank you cards for them and everything. Or maybe some 'Stix._

"Do you get what I'm saying?" she asked, softening her voice in hopes of getting some verbal answer from Rachel, needing the girl to realize what she'd maybe known for a long time, but only recently accepted. "Where will you be in October? Tell me about a few minutes of your day."

Rachel looked predictably uncertain, her eyes still on Santana through the mirror instead of herself, which wasn't horrible. It was kind of nice, and if the girl was so focused on her, then she'd help out as best as she could. Wrapping her arms around the girl's waist was a bit of a risky play given the previous anger Rachel had shown, but it seemed to calm the girl down enough to turn her stuttered syllables into full words.

"I've just finished a dance class at NYADA, and I…um…I have a free schedule after it so I'm sitting outside the class taking notes on my performance, like…like I usually do after dance classes here. I'm…Santana, this is…" Rachel started well enough, but she couldn't hear any of the girl's trademark passion in her words when she ultimately trailed off and looked away. _And if she's going to talk about me…_

"You're doing great, keep going. It's okay to be a little nervous, because I told you I'd be visiting after my classes end at NYU, but I've been a jerk and haven't given you my schedule yet, so you don't know when I'll come around. You've come to learn that I like to make an entrance, but I'm sure you just wish I'd give you even a little notice…" Santana interjected, hoping to help familiarize Rachel with the imaginary situation, maybe help her feel more at home in it, more comfortable with it. So when Berry interrupted her, she kind of felt awesome.

"But you never do, so I'm always rushing around at the last second to get ready, but…but I'm used to that because everything moves so fast in the city, and opportunities can pop up out of nowhere. And I know you're just doing this to both annoy and help me, so I can never be too frustrated with you." Rachel finished, earning a shrug and a light squeeze from Santana, because hey, who would have thought Berry would have her pegged so quickly? "But you can only distract me for so long from my aching body, and I really don't want to do anything but curl up on my couch and watch movies all night. But the ache feels like an accomplishment, because I know I'm improving, and as I walk out the doors of the academy, the cool autumn air hits me and it's entirely refreshing, even just the reminder that it's my first autumn in New York. I pick up two lattes on my way home for myself and Kurt, who will be living with me most likely, because I know you'll give me flak if I fall asleep early on a Friday night, though not more than the flak you'll give me for not wanting to go out tonight. And as I exit the subway and walk down the street toward my apartment with the warm sun on my face, I know that one day I'll be walking that same path when I get a phone call for my first callback, my first part, and maybe even my first lead. And just knowing that will have me smiling because I'll be home. I'll be home in New York and…"

Rachel's voice halted abruptly as Santana released one arm from Rachel's waist; taking advantage of the distraction, she turned the diva's head from facing her back toward the mirror, letting Berry see how bright of a smile she was wearing, how she was practically glowing. "Do you see what I see, Rachel?" she whispered, resting her chin on the girl's shoulder as they both took in the sight. Santana wasn't about to define what she was feeling at the moment, but it was something she'd only felt once before, and she really didn't want to run this time, or ignore it. Even if it was just a flickering, fleeting thing right then.

Rachel hesitated for a moment as she took in her reflection, but her smile only grew larger, her eyes welling with emotion. "I think I do."

Santana couldn't help but detach from the girl after another gentle squeeze, feeling utterly accomplished. "Good!" she cheered, clapping her hands together once rather loudly. Her mind was bursting with fresh thoughts, worries and hopes, and she needed to just get away and think for a bit. "I'm gonna clean up a little, and you could use a touch up too before we head out to Breadstix to celebrate."

She was about a step or two outside of Rachel's room when she heard the diva call out to her, freezing her in her tracks. She turned a bit, looking back at the remorseful diva at the doorway. "Santana, I'm so sorry about hitting you. It was entirely unwarranted, and I hope you can forgive me."

The girl's apology was unwarranted, at least in Santana's mind, so she wasn't exactly going to take it. "I goaded you into it, anyway. And honestly? It was worth it." She noted proudly, closing the distance between them again so she could try and bring that smile back. And sure, maybe she could have just hugged the girl, knowing Berry loved hugs, but nothing was wrong with tucking some of the girl's hair behind her ear. Besides, she wanted to see the girl's face and stuff, and there was hair in the way. She wanted to see that smile again. "And I'm sorry for catching you off guard with all that shit... I know it was hard to hear, but I promise it'll get better. Now you have something to remember when people tell you that you can't do it, that you won't make it. Because you will…you're going to be awesome. So cheer up, cupcake."

She grazed her hand against the diva's cheek for a brief moment before turning and walking back toward the upstairs washroom to get ready. Things were pretty awesome, the stinging cheek notwithstanding. _I mean, like hell if I was going to let her mope around in a coat that awesome! And friends don't let friends think badly about themselves, right? Except I don't give shitty empty platitudes, I make them see what makes them awesome._ She mused to herself, pulling out all the makeup products it would take to cover up the bruise that she was sure would be forming. Nothing like some battle scars from fighting in the trenches against Berry's insecurities, but she knew that good came from it, and that was what mattered. Besides, Rachel wasn't an incredible slapper; she'd taken much worse from Quinn.

Speaking of, she was glad that the 'Quinn Method' seemed to work on Rachel, because Santana was pretty sure the 'Brittany Method' would have been much less effective. She knew Berry was passionate, and she needed to bring that out and get the girl to just remember it and embrace it, despite whatever was being thrown her way. And it had worked, at least to some degree, considering the fact that Rachel was positively glowing after her mini-ramble about her imaginary day.

Rachel was doing better, and that's what mattered. And Santana felt pretty good too, so never let it be said that she was heartless. Because her heart was kind of taking a shine to Rachel Berry, of all people.


	10. Chapter 10

_Evening of December 26_ _th_

* * *

Rachel sat in Santana's car as they drove through Lima toward the girl's favourite restaurant. She could still hardly believe all that had occurred barely twenty minutes ago, and she hoped that her hand would stop stinging soon. It had been such a strange event, and she felt even worse for lashing out like she had, even if Santana had purposely worked to get her angry and emotional. Rachel's emotions were far too complicated to grasp quite yet, but she was a little hurt that the girl had manipulated her like that, even if she knew Santana was right, and was distinctly aware of what the cheerleader was doing at the time, bringing up old wounds. It made sense that if high-schoolers were making her feel ugly, the ambitious stars-to-be peers at NYADA would be ruthless; gaining the ability to discern fantasy from reality would be important when it came to criticisms aimed against her.

Her self-esteem was still a work in progress, surely; there were times when she felt on top of the world and confident, but it was never consistent. In the auditorium and the choir room, she knew that her talent would take care of her, but outside of those areas, the world got to her. So it was really nice that, for a while there in her room, she DID feel beautiful and happy and hopeful. And Rachel wanted to feel that more often; she knew that it might take some work, but it seemed possible if she had Santana at her side.

Rachel wasn't sure if Santana said those words just to boost her confidence and self esteem, or if she truly believed them; odds were that it was the former, but she'd never seen such an expression on the girl's face before. Never in her life had she witnessed Santana be angry FOR her, and it was strange, confusing, and a little exhilarating. _Maybe I'll be able to figure things out over a nice, quiet dinner…_

Santana eventually pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, leading Rachel in and surprisingly holding the door for her. She'd been certain that once the girl set her sights on the building, she would have been forgotten, if even for a small while. Instead, the hostess quickly showed both of them to a secluded booth in the back of the restaurant.

"Can I get you girls anything to drink?" the waitress asked, looking nervously at Santana, who appeared entirely indifferent to the server's anxiety.

"I'll have some water. Rachel?" Santana asked, drawing the server's attention to her for the first time since they entered the doors.

"The green tea, thank you." She noted politely, earning a quick nod before the young girl bolted off toward the back area. It was all a bit curious, how the wait-staff treated Santana; she'd wondered about it for a long time, and figured that it wouldn't be the worst ice-breaker. "So, why is everyone here practically falling over themselves for you?"

Santana let out a small laugh, her shoulders shaking ever so slightly as she leaned back into the padded wall. "What, like you reacted any different when I asked you for my clothes today?" the girl remarked, her trademark smirk gracing her lips. Rachel knew the cheerleader was right, and blushed accordingly, but thankfully Santana kept talking, leaving that anecdote behind. Even if that memory was both alluring and kind of awkward. "In all seriousness, everyone thinks I threatened the hell out of them all. Which…sure, I have, at times, but it's also because I occasionally leave really large cash tips. People hope for a reward, and pray not to get reamed out, and I get great service because of it."

Rachel had to laugh at how proud Santana looked at her trickery; she'd never guessed that the girl had used mind tricks against the Breadstix staff. "Well, you're clearly not from the wrong side of the tracks if you're pulling that kind of power play, Santana." Rachel gave an impish smile when the girl across from her shot her a stony glare; she wasn't at all intimidated by Santana anymore.

"Actually, I've totes spent a lot of time in Lima Heights. My abuela lives there, and once my parents started going away more often…usually on weekends, summer vacation, whenever they were working heavy hours…I'd hang out over there. So it's not all smoke and mirrors, cupcake. I'm still badass." Santana asserted her last sentence firmly just as the server returned with their drinks, nodding feverishly at Santana's assertion before the cheerleader waved her away.

Rachel gamely nodded, unable to keep a straight face at the girl's insistence on that bit of her reputation. "San, you're a badass, I agree. A badass cook, a badass baker, a badass cuddler, a badass sculptor…"

Santana's indignant expression had quickly turned into a sad frown that was more of a pout now that she really thought about it. "I was a badass to get you to slap me, and for motivating you to realize you looked as awesome as you are." The girl argued, giving her a challenging glare that she was starting to find more amusing than anything. "Not many would be THAT badass."

"No, I suppose not, Santana." She did her best to refrain from giggling, but she failed, and Santana surprisingly didn't look any more annoyed by the outburst. It was just kind of funny to see Santana complimenting her and raising herself up at the same time. "Most people would have used words, though."

That earned her a haughty scoff, Santana crossing her arms as she stared somewhat intensely into her eyes. Rachel wasn't sure if she should have followed that up with anything, and before she could formulate words, the cheerleader seemed to find her own. "I did use words, I just avoided the empty ones most people use." The girl's tone was flat, serious, and certainly altered the tone of the discussion quickly. "I'm going to tell you something, okay?"

Rachel looked at the hard sincerity across the girl's features, wondering how weird it was to be having a discussion with Santana while the girl looked as if she were about to toss a slushie at her, or say some disparaging remark. Not that the cheerleader looked menacing, it was just that she hadn't seen Santana show that hardened mask of hers to her in a while.

She nodded, deciding it was a simple enough gesture to consent to the discussion, knowing if she were to speak, she'd probably ask Santana questions and derail it all. "When I was in grade seven, Britt accidentally let slip that my parents left me every winter, and I didn't get presents or anything. It's stupid, but kids bullied me over it. They were already giving me crap for being mixed and a latina, but then they started taunting me and gossiping that my parents didn't love me, and a bunch of other crap." Santana noted quietly, her hard features not at all masking the subtle sadness in her words. Rachel couldn't imagine how it would have been for her; once more, she felt sad that she hadn't taken time to listen to the chatter of her peers back then, or maybe she would have found a friend in Santana years ago. "It hurt. It hurt a lot, and I know some kids laughed at me for putting up Christmas decorations alone, for walking around town alone to look at the lights, for not getting anything for Christmas, for losing my family for about a month. But my abuela smacked some sense into me."

Rachel wanted to reach her hand across the table and offer some support, but knew that Santana probably wouldn't take it, not in a public place like Breadstix. Even with her being out, it just didn't seem likely, so she settled for a sympathetic frown, knowing Santana was not only dealing with pain from seventh grade, but also pain from her abuela's recent rejection. "I'm sure she had a way with words, just like you."

"She did. She was meaner than me at the best of times, but I respected the hell out of her. She asked me point by point why any of that mattered at all. And when I'd answer wrong, she'd hit me with her spoon and give me a hard dose of the truth." Santana continued, a wry grin on her face as she seemed to wistfully recall an encounter that Rachel likely would have deemed somewhat frightening. "She told me my heritage, all of it, made me beautiful. That I was the best of a lot of groups, with the worst of none, and that there was nothing wrong at all about being Latina. I was just different, and different wasn't bad. And she told me my parents left not because they didn't love me, but because they loved each other, and they loved and trusted me enough to take care of myself. And that it was okay to be upset at them for leaving, but it had nothing to do with me. She told me a lot that night, mostly that what other people said about me didn't matter so long as I loved myself."

Rachel couldn't help but whip her arm across the table, offering the girl her hand, because she could see the warring emotions on Santana's face. She knew the girl didn't particularly like crying, and while her hand was only squeezed for a brief moment and let go, it seemed to help. "I was a seventh grader, and it was kind of hard to take in, but since I was new to bullying, I got through it quick. It just sucks that I forgot all that when I fell for Britt." Santana continued, arguably one of the longest stretches of one-sided discussion from the girl that she'd experienced. Still, while she desperately wanted to chime in, Rachel knew that Santana needed to get some things off of her chest. "I know you've been bullied a lot longer than I was, but it doesn't change the fact that you're kind of awesome. And that might take a while to believe, but someone just telling you you're awesome won't do it, not unless they kill those voices inside you that tell you that you aren't. So I get brutally honest, I take the high road, and I try to get it done, because what's how I am. Tact doesn't always get results, even if it's easier to hear."

Rachel nodded, blushing once more at the girl's compliment. She understood what Santana was getting at, certainly; her fathers would tell her she was beautiful and pretty, but it wouldn't really change anything. Still, though, the compliments Santana gave her were really nice too, and she wouldn't mind more of them and maybe a bit less of the emotionally draining dramatic episodes like that afternoon's. It was strange, but the cheerleader always seemed to be able to say the right thing, and had a knack for being able to tell what she was thinking about and how she was feeling. Which is why when Santana's hand rested over her own on the table, she wasn't entirely surprised.

"Rach, the good thing is that you know I'm honest, so… when I say nice stuff? I mean it." Santana spoke, her voice soft and taking on that same tone as when she'd spoken those sweet words earlier. However, all of that wasn't anywhere near as attention-grabbing as the girl's gaze; it was tender, but absolutely saturated with intensity and emotion. She would have described it as desperate or pleading, but she didn't sense a need for reciprocation, just reassurance. Rachel couldn't help but wilt slightly under the attention, but Santana didn't seem keen on letting go. "You're…fuck, I hate getting sappy, but you're a beautiful person, Berry… inside and out. No one could ever make me think differently, and I hope you can feel that some day. Until then, I'll keep reminding you or whatever."

Those forty words, the soft reassurance in the girl's voice, it was all more than Rachel could have imagined she'd ever receive. She could hardly restrain her smile and the deep blush filling her over-worked cheeks, her heart too busy flipping and doing pirouettes to help clear her thoughts from her blossoming attraction to Santana. Oddly enough, if anyone else had said those words, she was pretty sure she'd brush them off as just an exaggerated compliment, but she could hear the sincerity, the reverence in the cheerleader's voice. And while there was still a little lingering doubt, she trusted Santana; added to that, she really liked Santana. It had been a whirlwind of emotions the past few days, but somewhere along the line, the girl had found Rachel's heart. But Santana didn't break in, she didn't beat down the door, she didn't raise a boom box outside of it that played a lovely, if cliché, Peter Gabriel song to lure her out.

No, the girl started making camp; building defenses to protect her, breaking down weak walls to erect stronger ones, making campfires to warm her, decorations to remind her of what she was, and of her destiny. The thing was, with every action, she wanted the girl to remain, to not be some temporary supporter just building her up. Rachel wanted the girl who cared so tenderly for her when she was freezing. She wanted the girl who cast away her doubts that she was worthy, she wanted the girl who refused to fall asleep on her birthday because she thought Rachel deserved some companionship on her big day. Santana was no longer just that ludicrously attractive girl that had infiltrated her dreams and who had given her very positive chills from a single chaste kiss to her cheek. No, she was someone who the diva could very easily see herself with going forward, and while she couldn't fully accept Santana's words quite yet, she accepted what she'd witnessed when she had looked in the mirror earlier.

Rachel accepted the fact that when she saw herself emanating joy from her imagined future, all wrapped up in Santana's arms with the girl looking adoringly at her through the mirror, she had wanted to finish her sentence to reflect how she felt. She'd been too shy and scared at the time, and still felt it was a bit early for certain, but Rachel had felt that she'd be home in New York, and she'd be home so long as Santana was there with her. That the mere feeling of Santana holding her, the girl's chin on her shoulder, was more intimate than anything she'd felt with Finn. She wasn't sure what she felt for Santana could be defined as love just yet, but she cared for her, and wanted the girl in her life. That much was clear.

It was all so mentally and emotionally staggering; Santana was still looking at her like she was the only person in the restaurant, and it left her in breathless awe. Pulling every bit of willpower from the depths of her person, Rachel did something she normally tended to avoid. She let out a laugh, and while it was shy and clearly marked by how flattered she was, it managed to communicate that she honestly needed some space. She needed time. If only just a little bit. _And hopefully Santana won't think I'm just laughing off her affection…because I really, really enjoy it, but I just need a second or two to just take this all in…_

"Is that a form of apology for your past actions against me, San?" she asked, feeling a little more at ease now that she'd taken control and changed the subject.

Santana shrugged, wearing her usual smirk once again. "I don't like apologizing, I like being better than I used to be. Actions speak louder than words, and I've screwed up before, but I can always make it up to people, be better for them."

She felt her heart flutter again at the girl's words, understanding now that Santana had been nicer around her lately not just because she was a houseguest, but because she wanted to. Because really, Rachel hadn't requested the change. "Would it kill you to say you're sorry, then?"

The cheerleader's laugh was sweet and melodic, a sound that she could really get used to hearing. "It'd hurt more than the slap, for sure. I apologize for really bad stuff, like not helping Quinn with her pregnancy as much as I wanted to. Stuff I can't make up for, stuff I can't be better about. Otherwise, it just feels like giving up."

Rachel nodded at the girl's words, finding them an interesting divergence from common thought; most said they were sorry even for menial things out of their control, but Santana only said it for major things she caused that became forever out of her control. _I can't say I entirely agree with her perspective, as I find comfort in the words, in communicating sympathy and empathy, and especially sincerity. I…suppose that I'll simply have to be patient and remind myself of her quirks, and to try and be watchful for when she's trying to do better. Though…that is a rather difficult concept to define…_

"What do you mean by 'doing better'?" she asked, feeling a need to understand all of what made Santana, well, Santana.

"'Being better', Rach. And our little tiff in your room was one example. Plus, me being all closed off at school and shutting you out the whole time? Now I talk to you, I watch TV with you, and we get our cuddle on. I used to keep quiet during Q's Christ club when they talked about gay stuff, but now if someone says shit, I stand up for me, Kurt, Blaine, Karofsky, and Britt…though I'm pretty sure she's confusing for most people, being bisexual but heteromantic and everything. I used to slushie people and bully other kids, now I pretty much don't. That kind of stuff. Being a better person and owning my crap, you know?" Santana retorted nonchalantly, each example perfectly understandable and acceptable, but Rachel's brain was imploding over the fact that Santana freely admitted to cuddling with her, in a public space. Sure, it was a private booth, but people around them could very likely still hear them. She honestly felt as if she were in the twilight zone.

Taking a moment to gather her wits and to pinch herself to ensure she wasn't dreaming, which she wasn't, Rachel couldn't help but voice her curiosities. "Do you have a fever, San? Because you're being really, really nice right now, and it's somewhat confusing."

"Well, you've been ogling me, and that's confusing seeing as I've always thought you were straight, but maybe we both made some bad assumptions?" Santana shot back playfully, challengingly cocking an eyebrow, clearly hoping for a response.

One which she certainly received, as Rachel was entirely caught off guard and wound up gaping; she thought she'd been subtle and sneaky and entirely covert about her attraction. The thought of Santana catching her in the act was somewhat mortifying. _Though, I suppose Christmas morning may have tipped my hand…_

"I wasn't ogling you." She noted with a long exasperated sigh, because she honestly wasn't. Rachel Berry didn't ogle. It wasn't something she did. Ogling wasn't proper or polite.

Santana's smirk seemed even more predatory and smug than usual as the girl leaned forward, her jacket thankfully hiding her cleavage. "Well, what were your eyes doing other than boring holes into me? You kind of stood around for a while during yoga."

Rachel blushed furiously at that, because she'd remained at the doorway, watching Santana for a number of minutes. She thought she'd been safe and stealthy, but apparently not. She mumbled her answer, something that Santana seemed to pick up on.

"Say it louder, sweetheart, I can't hear you." The cheerleader taunted playfully, and she wasn't sure what made her flustered more, the open teasing or the rather lovely term of endearment.

"I was admiring you!" she blurted out, taking the band-aid removal method way of hopefully preventing any discomfort with a term length greater than ten seconds. It was embarrassing, because while she really was admiring the girl's form and physique and physical attributes, it really was just a different form of staring, and staring was rude. And Rachel was usually so good about her manners.

She'd expected a much different reaction than what she got; she thought she'd get a laugh, or some verbal teasing, a cocky remark, or perhaps for Santana to be put off by her comment. Instead, the girl looked at her with this genuine smile. "You could have just said so." The cheerleader noted quietly, a surprising pinkish tinge on her cheeks which was only amplified when the girl's smile turned a little mischievous. "Or you could have been more subtle like me."

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked, cocking her head to the side, because she didn't understand. Santana had been far from subtle in most things she'd done during her stay, so she predictably had difficulty trying to figure out what she'd been subtle about.

"Come on, I'm not the only one at this table with a killer set of legs." Santana's words, along with that saucy little smirk, had Rachel reeling a little bit. Sure, Santana had flirted with her quite a bit across the past few days, and she'd been sweet and wonderful, and had certainly complimented her legs when they'd walked around town looking at Christmas lights. Rachel had just taken the girl's behaviour as simply her being playful; however, the assertion that Santana had indeed ogled her secretly created an alternate narrative. Santana had been quite open with her playful flirting, there was no reason to keep anything like that secret unless it wasn't meant to be playful or teasing or to get Rachel flustered.

With that in mind, Rachel composed herself as quickly as possible and decided to perform a little test run, thinking that this was her chance. Maintaining eye contact and offering the cheerleader her best smile, she raised her right foot and stretched it ever so slightly, her suede boot brushing lightly against one of Santana's legs.

"These legs?" Rachel asked simply, doing her best to remain as straight-faced as possible even though flirting back with Santana was daunting. A look of shock flashed across the girl's face for a few wonderful seconds, but it soon enough settled into one of sheer amusement.

Santana leaned forward and stretched her leg out a little, offering Rachel a larger expanse of skin to brush up against. "Now, Rachel…wearing boots isn't fair." The cheerleader noted, her amused expression transforming before her eyes; Santana's smile fell into a predatory smirk, the girl's dark eyes blazing with intensity. "Why, here I am all exposed for you, while I'm not provided the same courtesy. What's a girl to think?"

Rachel gulped at the heated gaze she was given as she felt both of Santana's feet slide against her booted leg, sending a slight shiver through her body. How Santana managed to get both of her own boots off so fast was actually both impressive and frightening. Words, as usual, were failing her in her need to respond; however, it didn't seem as if Santana truly required one, given the odd pressure on the inside of her foot. "You see, cupcake…" Santana husked out, her eye contact so smoldering that Rachel feared she'd melt into the booth seating. However, her attention quickly went to her foot as she felt a curious sensation of the boot loosening, Santana's feet dragging the zipper of the boot down. "Even if I remove this extra layer, you still have me at an advantage." _Of course Santana has dexterous feet…jeepers…_

Rachel could feel Santana's feet caressing the small exposed stretch of her tights-covered leg, and while she definitely felt like she was starting to overheat from the more sensual affection, it gave her an idea. "Well, I suppose it's only fair to make up the difference, then. And…" Slowly, Rachel unbuttoned her coat, slipped it off, and placed it neatly beside her before arching her body in an exaggerated stretch, a content hum escaping her from the rather pleasant action. When she refocused back on Santana, the girl was staring intently at her, curiously waiting for Rachel to continue, a playful twinkle in her eye. "And maybe since you're so eager for some skin on skin contact, I'll be open to it later on if you behave through dinner."

At that, Santana leaned back against the booth and Rachel felt the girl's feet traverse up her leg little by little, caressing her through the nylon/spandex mix covering her skin. "Rachel, when have I ever misbehaved?" the girl asked innocently, cocking a challenging eyebrow, and Rachel could only chuckle and shake her head, knowing that dinner may be quite an adventure.

* * *

_Afternoon of December 27_ _th_

* * *

Santana was thrilled that Quinn had arrived back in town that morning; not only was it nice to get out and visit someone for the first time in over a week, but it was kind of relieving to be able to hang out with one of her BFFs without Coach Sue antagonizing either of them. The early portion of the semester when the blonde was stuck in her rebel-punk phase had finally passed, but they had barely been able to make time for each other since. Thus, Santana was freaking thrilled to be knocking on the blonde's door; apparently, Quinn took a bus back to Lima, while her mother planned on visiting Frannie until New Years Day, so she had gone back home for a few minutes to grab some movies and whatever for a potential sleepover, just in case. It was all damn exciting.

After a few long moments, the door swung open and Quinn was practically dragging her inside the home and up the stairs to the blonde's bedroom. Once inside, Quinn let go and proceeded to flop onto the bed face first. Santana managed to suppress her amusement, knowing that her friend could be pretty dramatic at times. "So I take it your trip to Chicago to see Princess Francesca and Prince Charming was a rousing success?" Santana asked sarcastically as she slid onto the bed and at up against the headboard.

"It was HORRIBLE. They were all HORRIBLE, TERRIBLE PEOPLE." Quinn mumbled against her duvet, slamming a single, angry fist down against the bedspread repeatedly. If Santana was suicidal, she would have let out a laugh, but she knew that Quinn's methods of venting her anger were usually either violent, socially cruel, or childish tantrums. It was actually a pretty relieving thing that Santana had happened upon the blonde being in that third stage, because the other two tended to end up with both of them in tears, or with welts on their faces.

So instead of mocking the girl like she usually did for minor issues, she decided to make a peace offering. "Q, why don't you come up here so I can give you a scalp massage while you tell me how shitty your sister and her husband are."

The blonde, of course, slowly crawled up the bed and unceremoniously plopped her head onto Santana's lap, letting the cheerleader begin her hopefully calming ministrations. "My sister's pregnant again." Quinn whispered after a few minutes of somewhat easy silence. Santana nodded and brushed the girl's hair back with one of her hands before continuing, a gesture to let her know she heard her, and she's happy to listen. "Every day, there was so much focus on Matthew, their two year old, and on Melissa, who Frannie's six months pregnant with. And I love Matthew, he's adorable and I'm sure Melissa will be too."

Santana nodded and once again combed her hand through the blonde's hair, prompting Quinn to continue. "And…and Frannie kept saying that once I was a mo…mother, that I…San, she kept saying all these things that…that …she said that once I have a child of my own, I'll never let them go." Quinn sounded so heartbroken and defeated, and Santana couldn't help wanting to just pull the blonde up into a hug, but she knew Quinn wasn't ready for that, not until she'd completely vented. "They both kept saying things that basically denied the fact that I did give birth to Beth, that I did the right thing letting her go, that I'm her birth mother …every day, they denied that, and it was just so hard. And my mom…I could tell she eventually caught on and was uncomfortable about it all, but she's always a polite guest, so she wouldn't stand up for me, and I just needed someone to be there for me and tell me that I did the right thing. I did…I did, right?"

"Of course you did, Q." Santana noted as soothingly as she could; sure, she kind of hated Shelby in a way for what she did to Rachel, but she was very aware that the woman desperately wanted to start a family, and was not only financially ready for one, but also mentally ready. "You gave Beth a bright future, one you couldn't give her on your own. I mean, you were still a sophomore, Q, and Puck has a heart, but he's not reliable at all. That kid needed a stable place to grow up with someone who could give her all the care she needed. The first few years are, like, really critical Quinn, and you couldn't have given Beth what Shelby could."

Q nodded against her lap and grabbed at Santana's hips pulling herself up the cheerleader's body, Santana finishing the endeavour by pulling the blonde into a hug. "It just really sucks. This would have been her second Christmas, San."

Santana just held Quinn tighter and ran her free hand through the blonde's hair, knowing it was soothing to her friend. "I know, Q, I know. I know you'll always miss Beth, but I promise she's doing amazing, and that someday you'll have a 2 year old of your own, and you'll be such a fucking amazing mom. I promise you, Q." She stated firmly, entirely confident in every word because it just made sense. Q had a fucked up childhood of neglect, crazy religious threats and verbal abuse, so she knew how not to treat kids. And the blonde was really fucking intelligent and really did have a pretty awesome heart, and Santana knew that Quinn would be about as excellent of a parent as a kid could hope for. _And of course, when she does, Auntie Snix will get to spoil the little gremlins rotten! Oh god, for one of their birthdays, I'll have to give them, like, a huge bag of glitter…the angry phone calls and potential physical assault will totes be worth it…_ She mused, letting her friend calm down a little before continuing. "And hey, you know you can call me, right? Like, you totally could have called me, Q. You didn't have to, or anything, but if you did, I'd answer."

"I know, San. I know how things are with you, and I should have called, I guess. How was it in la casa Lopez this year?" Quinn asked against her shoulder, easing up on the near vice-grip the blonde had held her in.

"My parents actually made me stay at Rachel's. Our dads work together, I guess." Santana said with a shrug, and Quinn, of course, started giggling. Which turned into laughing, and ultimately ended up with the blonde rolling on her bed laughing hysterically while Santana sat there, entirely unimpressed. Sure, it was kind of funny out of context; she'd been dreading staying there initially, so she got that, but it wasn't, like, crazy hilarious. "So yeah, that's been interesting." She finished, hoping to pull the blonde out of her laughing fit.

Eventually, Quinn got over the hilarity of the situation and sat up against the headboard beside Santana, eyeing the cheerleader up suspiciously, which she found odd. "How many times have you wanted to kill Berry by now? You don't have a warrant out for first degree murder, do you?"

Santana playfully shoved her friend and shook her head. "No…no, it's just been…really fucking weird, okay? Like, when I was dropped off there, I thought my next few weeks were fucked, and I'd be annoyed as fuck about the Berry Family Holiday Bonanza or whatever would be going on."

The blonde nodded beside her, letting out a little sigh. "I know…I've only sort of been her friend for tiny bursts at a time, but I've met her parents, and as a family, they're all certifiably insane." Quinn noted with a sort of tone that led Santana to believe the girl had experienced some serious Berry family madness, and that it still haunted her. Admittedly, they could be a little crazy, but she thought that maybe the holidays helped focus them enough to take the edge off of their wackiness.

"Yeah, they each have their special brand of crazy, and at first I kind of just decided to hide out in the guest room and avoid them, right? But then one night I realized that Rachel's birthday was the next day, and she didn't have anything planned or shit. And I mean, I'm a cold-hearted bitch sometimes, but I figured I'd give it a shot and see just how horrendous it could be. But…it was kind of fun. I made a hilarious snow elf sculpture in their front lawn that looked like Rachel…" Santana started, though Quinn's renewed laughter had her pausing to let the blonde recover, because hells yes that sculpture was funny as fuck.

"You didn't! She must have been PISSED! Did she stomp her foot? Oh my god, I wish I'd been there for that!" Quinn exclaimed hastily, biting her lip in an attempt to keep her laughter in check.

Santana couldn't help but chuckle as she recalled the moment. "Yeah, she stomped and pouted and said she wasn't that short. Me and her dad just laughed it off, though." Santana noted, kind of wishing she'd brought the framed photo with her.

"Wait, her dads weren't angry with you?" Quinn asked, her eyes widening as she prodded Santana's side, one of her many little gestures that meant she wanted an answer right away. For that reason alone, Santana took her time in responding, which only led to more, harder pokes.

"Nah, they all found it as funny as I did. Hell, LeRoy helped me make it, and Hiram caught it all on camera. It was pretty awesome." Santana answered, and continued when Quinn just looked at her with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. "Anyway, we went to Columbus after that and shopped, saw a play, had dinner, that sort of stuff. It was a pretty good day or whatever, and Berry was surprisingly cool."

Quinn seemed to need a few moments to really digest that, the blonde's head shaking from side to side ever so slightly as her brow furrowed in confusion. "Well…okay, so maybe she was just happy that someone spent her birthday with her that wasn't her parents, and kind of went easier on you. I guess that makes sense." The blonde noted, clearly trying to make sense of it all.

"That's the thing, though…I mean, over the next few days I hung out around the house with her a bit and it was all the same. She was still crazy, but a lot less crazy than at school. And her parents were cool, and it was all just…really easy. She went with me on my Christmas lights walk, we worked on some glee stuff, and we hang out most nights. She got me to go freaking caroling with her and her dads, too…staying with them has actually been pretty awesome, as weird as it sounds." She continued, reflecting on how it really didn't make a lot of sense, but she'd had a pretty great time with the Berrys. Santana was kind of really thankful that her parents dropped her off there, to be honest. She'd had a fantastic time there so far, and while Christmas was over, she still planned on sticking around there for the most part.

"That's it. I really, REALLY should have stayed home this Christmas. You went CAROLING with Rachel Berry?" Quinn asked in clear disbelief, a reaction that Santana more or less decided to ignore, because yeah, it wasn't something that Santana Lopez would have normally done, but it had been okay.

"Anyway, so that was Christmas Eve, and Christmas day was fucking kind of awesome. I mean, they had a tree and decorations, the fireplace was on, there were stockings, gifts, and everything was pretty great, Q. Her dads bought me 'Stix gift cards! And even better, guess what Rachel got me." Santana challenged the blonde, who seemed immediately deep in thought, tapping her finger intermittently against her chin.

"Hrm…Funny Girl." Quinn decided after about two minutes of hard thinking. Which, really, was surprisingly unimpressive, because everyone knew the diva loved that movie. And while Q was right, it wasn't really worthy of two minutes of thinking.

"Okay, yeah, that too, but she bought me a dress. And not one with animals on it, or with argyle, but THIS." Santana noted with emphasis as she pushed her phone in Quinn's face, a picture of the dress displayed on the screen. She wasn't even shocked when the blonde let out a loud gasp, or when the phone was promptly snatched from her hand.

So she watched her friend stare at her phone in shock and disbelief, trying to make sense of the newest revelation. "Well…her fathers are, like…gay…maybe they…you know, helped."

"Nope, that was all Rachel. Hiram and LeRoy spent almost all their shopping time looking at new glasses. I know, it blew my mind. Like, I had no idea what was going on, but apparently she gets fashion and everything…she just likes animal sweaters and argyle. Which…I'm not sure if that actually makes it worse or not." She noted, deliberating whether it was better to be ignorant of fashion and fall to the clutches of animal sweaters, or to know fashion and willingly choose animal sweaters. Neither seemed like particularly appealing choices. "Anyway, I kind of came over here looking for some advice, Q. I kind of really need your help figuring shit out."

Quinn nodded with understanding. "Yeah, Rachel is…well, everything you've told me has kind of weirded me out, so I get needing an extra head to make sense of the madness."

Santana took a deep breath knowing she was about to go on a long spiel that could very well get the blonde making fun of her endlessly for the next decade. Still, it was worth the risk, because she was really fucking confused about the previous day's events. "Okay, so Christmas morning, I wake up first at, like… seven, which is unheard of. So I go to check on Rachel to see if she's died in her sleep or something, and she looks like she's having some crazy nightmare. I decide to, you know, wake her up, until I realize she's actually NOT having a nightmare, if you know what I mean. So I accidentally keep her from a Christmas morning O, and I'm feeling terrible, and quickly escape downstairs to get some breakfast made because when I'm feeling really guilty, I eat, right?" Santana noted, and while Quinn was smirking with clear amusement, the blonde only nodded. "So there I am, I made food for the Berry men, and then Rachel comes into the kitchen with, like, damp hair and she's touching me and speaking all low and doing that innocent flirty thing, and she starts complimenting me and touching me, and I'm kind of not sure what's going on, because she's straight, right?"

Quinn nodded again, though she was looking more confused by the second. "Wait, Berry was flirting with you? And, like…why would she flirt with you?"

"I don't know, because I'm a hot piece of ass? Either way, I figured that it was because I'd been kind of affectionate the past few days, and she was just being playful like I was with her, because teasing her is totes hilarious. Anyway, Christmas morning passes, and while we're all waiting for dinner to be ready, she freaking eats my cookie on its well established route to my mouth. She stole my cookie, with her teeth." Santana continued, earning a gasp from Quinn because the girl KNEW that no one messed with Santana and her snack food. It was a well established rule of thumb in the Cheerios social group since freshman year when Yvonne Forrester stole two of Santana's favourite flavour of gummi worms. It hadn't ended well. There had been blood. "Yeah, I know, right? And she just looked so pleased with herself, so I freaking teased the shit out of her and more or less snaked myself around her to keep her from running away. And then yesterday morning, during yoga, she ogled the shit out of me. Like, she thought I hadn't seen her, so she just stayed there and freaking ogled me about as hard as I'd ever been stared at, Q. It was kind of intense."

The blonde just sat there, gaze up at the ceiling with an expression of sheer wonder on her face. "Berry…is into you? Are you sure she wasn't just waiting for you to finish?"

"Q, I was in King Pigeon and she was staring right at my tits the whole time. The entire time. And on Christmas Eve night, she kind of really motorboated my tits. I mean, she was trying to get comfortable, but it was a good two minutes of her just straight up motorboating me. So I teased her again, had a shower, teased her AGAIN, and got to thinking that maybe Berry has a crush on me, right? I mean, kissing my cheek, motorboating me, ogling me, complimenting me, feeling me up…it all leads to that, right?" Santana kept ranting, hoping she was making sense to the blonde, who was thankfully nodding her head and putting the puzzle pieces together. "So on Christmas night, she couldn't sleep and asked me for a makeover because I bought her a kickass coat for Christmas, and I said sure. So on the day after Christmas, after the shower, I helped her with that, and we kind of had something of a fight over it, but it ended well, right? And because neither Berry men were around, and I was hungry for Stix, we went out."

At that, Quinn stilled her with a hand on Santana's knee. "Wait…you took Berry out? On…on a _date_?" The blonde practically stage whispered that last word, all wide eyed and looking about as intense as ever. And yeah, Santana could see the parallels, but it hadn't really been a real date. Not really.

"Okay, I wasn't about to cook for two, so we went out. It wasn't really a date…not really. Anyway, we talked and shit, and I teased her again, and she freaking flirted with me in public! Like, I told her about how I knew she'd ogled me, right? And then I said she should have been more subtle like me, because we both have killer sets of legs, and that's true, blondie. You can't deny it, I've seen you looking. Anyway, she freaking starts rubbing her legs up against mine and flirts with me harder. So, I like, flirt back, because no one out-does me in flirting. And eventually it gets to her saying she'd 'give me some skin on skin' later on if I behaved, and we got our food right after that, so the rest of it was kind of spent teasing each other a little, and I'm there thinking she really IS kinda into me. That she's legit into me. But then, when we go to leave? Nothing. On the ride back to her place? Nothing. On the doorstep? Nothing. I ask if she wants to watch some TV on the couch we always hang out on? She says she's actually going to read some book her dad bought her for Christmas. Which, like, whatever. I'm not desperate or anything, so I go upstairs and do my own thing. And most nights, before she heads to bed, she comes by and says goodnight or whatever, but that night, she didn't, which is weird. Makes me feel like I messed up somewhere, but I totally didn't! Like, seriously, I'm not sure what's going on, and this morning she basically avoided the shit out of me." Santana took a few deep breaths, because fuck if she's ever talked so much for so long before. She was pretty sure she'd beaten a personal record at the very least. Either way, it was just nice to be able to vent to someone, finally, and hopefully have another brain to help her figure shit out, because for Rachel to go from being kind of all over her to not even around at all, it probably meant that something was going on. And Santana was a nosy, curious person.

"Okay, so let me get this straight…Berry's been flirting with you, and has physically shown that she's into you, right?" Quinn asks, to which Santana nodded decisively, because that much was definitely true. "Rachel's a very vocal person, so has she said anything to indicate she's into you?"

Santana nodded again, though she really didn't want to bring much of that stuff up because she knew Q would hassle her over it. Still, if it would give her some answers, then she'd take that hit. "She said she really cares a lot about me, she's insinuated that I'm hot, she's said that she likes me when I'm being sweet, that she admires my body, that she thinks I'm really nice and likes having me around, and that I…I make her happy."

Quinn's exaggerated "Awwww" was a little freaking annoying, but thankfully the blonde wasn't giving her too much shit about it. "Okay, so she really does like you. But maybe she's not sure how to handle you? I mean…you're Santana Lopez. She's Rachel Berry. She has the sexual prowess of a newt, so maybe she's intimidated? When she talked about you two getting some 'skin-on-skin' contact yesterday, what were her exact words?" The blonde asked, thankfully taking a level-headed inquisitive approach to it all instead of teasing her maliciously.

"Well…I'm pretty sure she said that since I'm so eager for some skin on skin contact, that she'll be open to it later on if I behaved through dinner. And I only just grazed her legs a bit from there on. Because I like teasing her, but I figured if she, like, kissed me or something, that it would give me a definite idea of whether she liked me or not, and that didn't happen at all. Nothing happened." Santana explained, feeling a little flustered that she was getting advice from Quinn Fabray of all people, but Q was her girl, and despite her lack of decent relationship experience, she had a good head on her shoulders. She trusted the blonde with stuff like this.

So the long, exasperated sigh from the blonde was pretty much a bad sign. Because Santana had no idea what had gone wrong, and if the blonde was more on Berry's wavelength than her, then something was seriously wrong. And that was bad.

"San…she said she'd be OPEN to it later on. Probably meaning that if you wanted it, she'd be open to it. That's what being open to something usually means…it doesn't mean she'd be open to instigating any of that stuff with you, it means she'd be open to receiving it. So she was probably waiting just like you were, and holed up in her room when you didn't. Why else would she avoid you unless she was disappointed and probably too busy crying into her pillow? Or maybe she just isn't into you that way, and didn't know how to be around you after that kind of flirting." Quinn spoke, and each word more or less increased the heavy weight in the pit of her stomach, because the blonde was making sense, and everything. And just the thought of Rachel being upset over her kind of really sucked, and so did the idea of Rachel not really being into her. _Fuck…fuck my life, I'm used to being chased after by guys, and Britt would always poke and prod me into that kind of stuff, which was awesome. I guess I started it sometimes, but…not a lot…especially not when I wasn't sure if someone was into me. Which…really…was rare as fuck…ugh…and now I have to question if Rachel's really into me at all…_

Santana sighed and quickly grabbed her phone from where it rested beside Quinn, and opened her messaging program, quickly finding Rachel's contact info. She quickly typed out a message, figuring that if Rachel was worrying or whatever, then she should probably stop that, or at least try to. Because while she wasn't infatuated with the girl, she did like her, and didn't want to ruin any potential chance for something more, and didn't want to strain their friendship or whatever.

' _Hey cupcake. Just hanging out at Q's place this afternoon, but I'm thinkin we could do a movie night tonight? Just me n you? Lemme know! –San x_ '

"Oh my god, what has Rachel DONE to you? Who ARE you?" Quinn explained before erupting into another giggle fit. On one hand, she was kind of embarrassed that Q saw her type out the terms of endearment and leaving that little x at the end of the message. On the other hand, Santana Lopez liked to think that she knew how to woo people, and that she had game, and that using said skills to earn the attention of one Rachel Berry wasn't a bad thing at all. Rachel was a pretty awesome person, all things considered.

"Psh, hate all you want, Q, but at least I might have some sweet lady kisses in my future." Santana stated with a playful scoff, placing her phone back down on the bed beside her, hoping Rachel would respond soon and ease her concerns. "Anyway, thanks for the heads up. I guess I was a little too caught up in the idea of getting my mack on with her that I totally didn't think all that hard about what she actually said."

Quinn just shrugged and leaned up against Santana, resting her head on the cheerleader's shoulder. "Helping you 'get your lady love on' is the least I could do considering the years you put up with me dating Finn, Puck and Sam. And really, that's what friends are for."

Santana smiled and, knowing the blonde was comfortable where she was, grabbed the TV remote from Quinn's bedside table, turning it on and flipping through the on demand selections to some vaguely described action movie. It was kind of their usual routine; if they weren't talking about their issues, they were usually doing something simple and just relaxing with each other. With their school lives being how they were, and their home lives lacking a lot of physical affection and all that nice stuff, they tended to band together in private and help each other out on that front. Sometimes it was just nice for someone to be there, to not ask any questions, and to just know what the other needed.

About a half hour into the movie, her phone buzzed, and Santana gently worked her slightly freer arm out of Quinn's grasp and unlocked her phone to read the message.

' _Hello, Santana! You have my sincerest apologies for not answering sooner. I've been out running errands while my dads are at work. No one will be home until about six-thirty, so if you could return sometime after then, the doors will be open and we can figure out which movie to select. Looking forward to it! – RB*_ '

While the message sounded a little clinical and to the point, Santana was happy to know that she'd at least have some consensual quality time with Rachel that night. Satisfied with the turn of events, she placed her phone down and brought her arm back around Quinn, deciding to enjoy the rest of her afternoon with the blonde.


	11. Chapter 11

_Evening of December 27_ _th_

* * *

Santana found herself back at the Berry front door at quarter to seven that evening, having enjoyed a pretty stellar afternoon with her blonde friend. Admittedly, she was pretty nervous to go inside, not really sure what to do or say when she saw Rachel. She'd been wondering how exactly one apologizes for missing a romantic social cue without de-romanticizing it, and had wound up without a solid plan of action. If it weren't so cold outside, Santana would have waited a little bit outside before going in, but the wind was pretty chilly so she turned the knob and stepped into a very dark home.

It was strange, normally the Berry household had at least one light on, especially this early on in the night, yet it was pitch black inside. "Rachel?" she called out uneasily, not a big fan of being alone in the dark. Not that Santana Lopez was scared of the dark; she was used to it that time of the year with how often she'd be alone at her home, but she always left one light on in the house to deter burglars or whatever. Having no lights on, at least from what she could tell from the foyer, was a bit unnerving and had her on edge. Rachel had said that no one would be home until six-thirty, so there was a chance that none of the Berrys were home at fifteen minutes after the fact, but at the same time, if they weren't home, who was?

As quietly as she could manage, Santana took off her boots and coat and crept through the kitchen and to the living room door-way. Oddly enough, there was a single candle lit, but it was clearly a piece of shit candle, because it barely cast any light. Frowning, she approached the coffee table it sat upon and noticed a small post-it note. _What the fuck?_ She thought, as she picked it up and used the ridiculously dim light to read it.

_Hello Santana! It seems as if the power line leading to our house has been damaged, and we've lost power. Unfortunate, I know, seeing as we'd planned for a movie night. Thankfully, we have plenty of candles and blankets, and while my fathers are out of town in hopes of finding a generator, I'll be in the upstairs bathroom arranging supplies and doing a candle-count. It's where we keep them all, so if you could meet me up there, that would be wonderful! Thank you! RB*_

Santana couldn't help but smile in relief that the power was just out, and that she wasn't dealing with some weirdo psychopath. Feeling a little better about the situation, she left the living room and slowly made her way through the kitchen and up the stairs, being careful to not miss a step or anything, because that would be both embarrassing, and would probably hurt like crazy.

Eventually, she made it to the top and stopped in front of the closed bathroom door, light pooling out from the bottom of the door. Cautiously, she knocked twice, not earning an answer after a few moments of waiting. "Rachel? Are you in there?" she asked, a little confused that the girl would lead her to the room if she wasn't willing to answer the door. "I'm…uh…coming in, okay? Alright."

Slowly, she turned the knob and opened the door, quickly finding out that it completely lacked Rachel Berry. But, in her place, there were at least a dozen lit candles and a series of three post-it notes attached to the tiled wall underneath the showerhead. Feeling pretty curious, she stepped into the oddly damp and wet bathtub, grabbing one of the nearby candles so she could read the note a little better.

_Hello Santana! Whoops, I suppose you just missed me. Sorry about that, I really am. Apparently we have a little over forty-eight candles in our home! I should tell my dad to stop buying more so that I don't have to label him an addict. Anyway, something stuck with me while I was in here. You told me the other night that sometimes you need to get out of a familiar place so that you can think a little clearer, and I really did need somewhere to really think things over, so I hope you don't mind that I borrowed your shower! I came out refreshed and rather clear-headed, so thank you. Also, I'm glad to see you've been using that shower gel and lotion I got you for Christmas. The moment I smelled it, I thought of you, and while you're under no obligation to wear it, it would be nice to know I gave you a signature scent, something that would help me know you're near whenever I smelled it. Anyway, it seems that this washroom has a penchant for getting its bathers to forget their clothes, so I went back to my room to change. I hope to see you there. RB*_

Santana smirked at the girl's crazy need to write massive paragraphs, but it was kind of funny and cute. The sheer thought of Rachel having just recently used the shower was kind of alluring as well, and she couldn't help but graze her hand against the smooth, moist tile. However, instead of Rachel's usual vanilla, flowery scent in the air, all she could smell was the shower gel that the diva had gotten her. _That's weird, I mean, even if she wanted a new place to think, she could still bring her own…wait…_ Santana bit hard into her lip as she braced herself against the shower curtain pole, all of a sudden overcome with arousal over the other girl's actions. _She wanted to smell like me…fuck…she was naked and all she had on her was my…my scent…_

She sat down on the edge of the bath for a moment to clear her head a bit, because one, she needed to cool off enough so that when she saw Rachel next, she wouldn't jump her and ravage her; two, she needed to know how Rachel got to be so sinfully sexy, yet accomplished it all through the most innocent of messages. It was all kinds of unfathomable, and Santana needed to sit down for a second and just take a breather.

Eventually, though, the thought of Rachel getting dressed and rocking that sexy damp hair managed to get her body moving again; before she left, though, she blew out all but the candles that had filled the sink, knowing Berry would probably be nervous about it all being a potential fire-hazard. _Though lighting fourteen candles was a bit much, wasn't it? Did the room really need that many? It kind of seemed like a romantic…_ Santana's thoughts once again froze as her heart kind of did these weird little flips at just the prospect of Rachel having taken advantage of the situation to provide some intimacy. That maybe Rachel wasn't put off by her, or angry with her.

Much like the bathroom, Rachel's door was closed, and once again she knocked, not receiving a response. Sighing in wonder of why she even bothered, Santana opened the door to find the room awash in a warm glow from the candles lining the windowsill, computer desk and bedside tables. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in all the small details that showed just how meticulous Rachel was at organizing her personal spaces. The girl always seemed to have a plan for everything, and that seemed to extend to how she wanted her room layout to function.

However, eventually, her eyes returned to the bed, where a small pile of clothes rested. Santana walked over and sat on the edge, picking up the neatly folded pile of clothes, wondering why Rachel would have left them out. However, at the bottom of her vision, she spotted the familiar yellow of a post it note where the clothes had rested, and smiled. _Okay, she totes planned this…as if no one was home until six-thirty. Clever girl…_

Curious and pretty damn amused, Santana picked up the stacked post-it notes and began reading.

_Hello again! I suppose you're wondering why I've left perfectly good clothes here in the middle of my bed, Santana. Simply put, I decided that since the power is out, there really isn't much use in getting dressed in these clothes if I'm just going to be relaxing around the house, or at least in the available warm, comfy places. You always did stress that I stay warm, and I'm doing my best to follow your advice, but I fear it's rather difficult to stay warm all by my lonesome. Before the power went out, I had just been finishing washing and drying much of the house's bedding. However, I had done mine earlier in the week, Christmas night if you recall, seeing as I endured a rather intense dream that morning as I'm sure you are aware of. So my bed wasn't all prepped and toasty warm like the one I'll be resting in. But I'm sure that the heat won't last forever, and it's far too early to sleep, Santana. Now, if you could be a lovely houseguest and keep me warm, I would greatly appreciate it. I think I just heard you come in, so if you would be so kind as to hurry…RB*_

As soon as Santana saw the familiar 'RB*' signature, she shot up off the bed and made her way out of the diva's room. It wasn't a big house, so there were really only two other options available, and her heart only raced harder when she came to the only logical conclusion. Trying to keep as calm as possible, Santana walked down the upstairs hall to the room that she'd been staying in for almost the past two weeks. Quietly, she opened the door and peeked in, finding the room as black as night, with the shades drawn, keeping out any natural light from the nearly full moon. Her brow furrowed in confusion for a moment as she stepped into the room, her eyes needing a moment to adjust from the dim candle-lit hallway. It was hard to tell whether there was a lump in the bed or not, so she decided to be a little less subtle. "Rachel?" she called out softly, hoping to finally receive some response.

It came in a way she hadn't predicted, two hands gently covering her eyes as a body pressed into her back. "Shhh. Thank you for coming, Santana." Rachel whispered, tsking her when she went to turn around. "No, no peeking yet. I'm afraid it's you who has me at an advantage this time. Why, you're wearing far too much clothing, and I do believe I promised some skin on skin contact if you behaved. And you were ever the image of a lady, Santana."

Now, Santana rarely ever blushed, but she could be glad that the room was dark, because she was about as red-faced as she probably ever could be. Normally, when someone flirted with her, she took it as a challenge, and immediately sought to raise the bar, but right there in the guest room with Rachel's hands over her eyes, it was different. _This isn't flirting…this is…seduction. A big, planned out, sensual as hell seduction…_ she mused to herself, her thoughts trailing off as she felt Rachel's hands drop from her eyes and skim achingly slowly down her sides to the hem of her sweater dress. "No peeking, San. I'm just going to take this off, okay?" Rachel whispered once more, the diva's adventurous hands rubbing tantalizingly against the front of her upper thighs. Santana just nodded, prompting one of the hands to leave its spot in favour of the zipper at the back. She waited a few long, torturous moments before she felt the zipper lower ever so slowly to the bottom of her shoulder blades. Rachel lightly tapped Santana's arms, getting the cheerleader to lift them enough for the diva to help pull them out and start sliding the dress down her body.

Santana had never in her life been teased like this, and kind of desperately just wanted to grab Rachel and let out all the pent up sexual energy she had on the diva, but at the same time, she also really wanted to keep feeling the girl's hands roaming around her body. One hand was very slowly pushing the dress down past her hips, while the other offered feather-light touches to her shoulders, abs, thighs, and calves. "Just checking to make sure that we'll have an even playing field, Santana. I'm sure you know that I would never take advantage of you in such a state." Berry remarked softly, her free hand grazing Santana's ass as she finished the sentence, giving it a little squeeze before pulling the dress down to the floor swiftly.

Now, Santana had been feeling pretty chilly before, because it was cold outside, and the house wasn't all that warm without the heat on, so she was pretty cold standing still in the guest room. But it didn't matter at all when she felt Rachel take her hand and guide her across the room, the sound of the comforter being pulled back a second or two before the diva was gently sitting Santana down. She took the hint and scooted her way further in, feeling the pleasant residual warmth of the sheets just before feeling Rachel's body once again make contact with her, this time skin on skin. Sure, they still had their bras and panties on, but it was more than enough for Santana to immediately warm up.

"Am I allowed to open my eyes, yet?" she asked, feeling a little impatient now that they were apparently at their destination, and all settled in, with Rachel's hands lightly resting on her shoulders, their legs already delightfully tangled.

"I just…I want to explain first, because I feel that the past few days, you've been doing much more talking than I've done, and I need you to know a few things first, even if it might ruin the mood." Rachel stated softly, but with a passion that set Santana at ease; it was wonderful hearing that in the diva's voice again, and just knowing the girl wasn't shy or nervous had her dipping into her emergency patience reserves. To her, Rachel couldn't ruin the mood; the girl had her worked up, and until she found some relief, that would persist. She nodded, and promptly felt herself being guided onto her back, with Rachel moving to lie on top of her. She could feel the girl's minty breath against her neck, damp strands of hair falling against her flesh, and it was kind of intoxicating. _Yeah…no way she's gonna ruin the mood…not like this…_

"Santana, yesterday was one of the scariest days I've ever lived. First, of course, in that you made me face something of my future and approach it as a reality. I know I come across as strong and unaffected most days, but you saw a big part of me yesterday. Frankly, the world scares me some days, and while I dream about my future as a Broadway starlet, I've never really accommodated for any thoughts of criticism, because it's painful. I'm a sensitive person, and reliving all of that…it's not something I generally willingly expose myself to. It hurt and scared me when you said all of those things to me, Santana…it hurt to face all of those insults and insecurities again, but it hurt even more that it was you who said them." Rachel explained slowly, her voice saturating with emotion to the point where Santana knew that even if she wasn't allowed to open her eyes, she could at least offer some affection, hugging the diva against her with one hand while stroking her hair with the other. It felt good to touch her, to hopefully ease some of that pain, because it really, really sucked that she'd hurt Rachel. She knew she had, but recalling that event in Rachel's room was still difficult to handle, emotionally. "I kept thinking that you used to be one of those people, and while I should have held strong to the reality that you aren't anymore, I was so scared that you'd believe in everything you were saying, and that you'd leave me again. That you'd hate me. I was terrified and furious at life for showing me these new sides of you, only to maybe take you away, and I hated that those insults affected me so much, and when I had the opportunity to, I lashed out. I know you said you earned it, but I have to apologize for the slap again. I've never endorsed violence, and it made me sick to my stomach that I not only hurt you in such a way… that I hurt you at all, really… but also that I lost faith in you, even for a brief moment."

Santana wasn't sure what to say to that, to reassure Rachel that she'd never go back to being that spiteful, angry girl. That because she had a supportive family and a wonderful bunch of friends, including Rachel, she'd never have to again. So she just clung to the diva tighter, planting a few fleeting kisses to the top of the girl's head in hopes that Rachel knew.

"The fact is, Santana, I think you're the only person who could hurt me and still maintain my complete trust, and that's scary. Because I know you don't mean to truly hurt me…you attack my insecurities, and that hurts…it really does, but I expect you to build me back up. I trust you to." Rachel continued, her voice soft as a whisper against Santana's collarbone.

"Always, Rachel…I'll always build you back up, I promise. You don't need to be scared of me." Santana noted, nuzzling her face against the top of Rachel's head; she really didn't want the diva to be scared of her. Scared of facing her insecurities? Sure, but she didn't like the idea of Rachel being scared of her.

"No, Santana…I can't help but be scared of you. I trust you, Santana…but lately I've barely been able to trust myself around you. I feel…well, I feel so much when I'm with you, and it's so overwhelming, and I'm scared of scaring you off. I really, really just wanted to not do any talking tonight, but I just…I had to, because I'm scared, and I need you to know where I stand." Rachel continued, her words more than a little confusing to Santana, who was desperately trying to make sense of how Rachel could scare her off, especially after being damn awesome and putting together such a sneaky little plan.

"Rach…why would you think you'd scare me away? I mean…hell, I'm still here, and I don't want to be anywhere else." She hoped her soothing delivery would help the tense girl in her arms relax, but it didn't seem to help, which was a little distressing. For the first time since she entered the home that evening, Santana was feeling a little worried.

"Santana, when you had me…when you had me tell you what life would be like in New York this autumn, I was legitimately thrilled. I imagined how wonderful and challenging NYADA would be, how the walk home would be… I imagined all my dreams coming true, and being able to share them with all my friends." Rachel began again, after a lengthy pause. The girl's voice was unsteady, and Santana was pretty sure she couldn't do anything about that but listen to her, and assuage her fears afterward. "As I said, I could see myself returning home after graduating, after getting my first big part, my first lead…but I wasn't going home to Kurt, or some random aesthetically pleasing boy. I was…I was coming home to you."

Santana let those words sink in for a moment, but really couldn't help but feel touched and content than anything else. Truth was, she was very likely going to be in New York for at least four years; because of that, she'd get to see Rachel all the time, and be there to celebrate all of her friend's accomplishments and accolades. Like hell if anyone could stop her from being at Rachel's place when the girl got home after getting her first lead role. She'd be there no matter what, anyway.

"Look, Rachel. I'm probably gonna be in the big apple with you for at least four years, so nothing's gonna keep me from being there to cheer you on and enjoy your wins and shit every step of the way. Let's get that straight, okay? I'm going to be there. No matter what." Santana started, giving Rachel a little squeeze for emphasis, because why not? Besides, she liked hugging Rachel, and since she couldn't see the girl yet, she'd do what she could. "So I'm not going to be scared of something like that. And if you're thinking of us being, like, together or something when the fall semester rolls around…as unromantic as it is for me to say it, why would I be freaked out about the idea of dating you? I hope you've realized it by now, but I'm pretty damn into you. I know my rep, but I stick with who and what I like, and I'm pretty big on monogamy…and if you, like, saw us living together or whatever, then I can tell you that Tisch and NYADA are cool with freshmen living off campus, so that's a thing. And you're crazy, but I totes…"

Santana generally wasn't a fan of being interrupted, and would usually react somewhat poorly at the best of times, but feeling Rachel's lips on hers was a very welcome exception to her rule, and like hell if she would raise a stink over a very passionate Rachel Berry devouring her face.

Now, she wasn't, like, desperate or anything, but Santana hadn't had any sweet lady kisses in a pretty long time. And really, Rachel's lips were freaking awesome, so her legs quickly wrapped themselves around the diva's hips and her hands moved into the girl's damp mane, hungrily pulling Berry closer. Santana wasn't at all sure how Rachel got to be such a fantastic kisser given the boys she'd dated, but it was seriously hard to care when her favourite diva tasted like raspberries and was practically emanating desire with every grab at her hair and head, every slight bit of friction against her body, every little mewl against her lips. She was used to topping her mack sessions, but Santana really didn't mind when Rachel's lips pillowed her upper lip; she only minded when Berry pulled away after a few intense, amazing seconds.

Blindly, she arched her head up, seeking out any contact she could get, yet Rachel kept herself just out of reach. Frustrated, Santana let out a groan and let her left hand travel from the back of the diva's head to her face, her palm resting on her cheek. "Come back." She mumbled yearningly, not too pleased about the unwanted intermission; Santana wanted to get the main event going on again, and every second of silence that wasn't spent kissing was a grievous waste of time, in her eyes. "If you're gonna interrupt me with a kiss, the least you can do is, like, keep going. You know?"

"I'm sorry, I just…I guess if this is just kissing for you, then I…" Rachel started, sounding a little miffed and upset, and that didn't seem right after such an awesome kiss. So maybe Santana broke the rule and opened her eyes early, and maybe she flipped them over while Rachel was too busy trying to say something that really already seemed very far off the mark.

"Okay, the fact that I wanted all up on your lips again should be, like, a clear sign that I'm into you, so I don't get why you think this is just some make-out session for me. Give me a bit more credit, cupcake, okay?" Santana asked, because it was pretty rude to just assume shit about her that clearly wasn't true. Or, at least, she thought it was pretty clear.

"It's just that I set this night up to be really romantic, because I really, really like you, and we don't seem to be on the same level." Rachel complained, and Santana could only gape at the girl's words; she wasn't sure what the hell that was supposed to mean, or what levels Berry thought each of them were on. Sadly, it was one of those situations where she knew she'd have to use words to explain herself instead of her body.

Santana wiped the damp strands of hair from Rachel's face to give her a clear view of how broken up Rachel looked, and that sort of just killed the annoyance that had built up inside of her, though the frustration remained; mostly, she was frustrated that the girl's insecurities were acting up again. "Rachel…I'm not, like, super romantic, okay? That's not really my wheelhouse, it's yours. That whole treasure hunt thing you pulled here tonight? That was really amazing and kind of made me feel really special and awesome, but I'm not great with words sometimes. Sometimes, I prefer to show my affection by kissing the hell out of you, okay? That's MY wheelhouse. I love what you did tonight, I'm really attracted to you, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally, okay? I was freaking out all afternoon because I thought I did something wrong yesterday, and the last thing I wanted was for you to be, like, upset. I want you to be happy, I want to make you happy." She rambled, not feeling too great about her mess of a confession, but the small, shy smile on Rachel's face had her thinking that maybe she was doing an alright job. "I'm good at flirting…but romance? I'm new to it. So if you wanted me to say something super mushy and play into the big dramatic romantic moment right after you broke away, that's not my first instinct, okay? My first instinct is to think that I felt something amazing in kissing you, in holding you, in feeling you, in hearing you…and I just wanted as much of you as I could handle, and I wanted to give you as much of me as you were willing to take. That's my comfort zone, okay? I want to kiss you. You prefer words. I prefer…well, to show you and make you feel how I feel."

"And…and how do you feel?" Rachel asked, her voice hardly above a whisper, her eyes having darted off to the side, away from Santana's intent gaze.

"I feel in my bones that Rachel Berry is the most meticulous planner I know, and if she were to finish off this night of romantic seduction with a certain question, one that I would eliminate the romance by detailing, that I might have an answer for her." Santana purred, stroking the diva's cheek tenderly, smiling brightly when the girl leaned into her touch and returned her gaze to make eye contact.

Rachel leaned forward slowly and Santana patiently let the girl close the distance and plant a chaste, lingering, electrifying closed-mouth kiss on her lips, one which she reciprocated wholeheartedly. "Santana…" Rachel started, her head still arched up off the mattress and lips almost brushing against the cheerleader's. "Will you go out with me?"

Santana paused for a moment to digest what Berry said, because she'd been expecting a bigger question. Still, she couldn't help the smile that spread across her lips, nor could she help taking hold of the diva's head and pulling her into another absolutely addictive kiss, her lips peppering against Rachel's over and over, unable to get enough. "Only if you let me take you on our first date."

She could see the flicker of confusion on Rachel's face before the familiar challenging inquisitive stare formed across the girl's features. "Well…only if you tell me where you plan on taking me. I don't like advance notice surprises, they make me antsy and nervous and I just fall apart into an anxious mess."The girl stated quietly but firmly, which wasn't at all surprising, given what she'd learned about the girl both in her recent time in the Berry household, and across the years.

"I was thinking…" She started, teasing out the process and making the diva antsy as she ran her hand through the girl's hair and planted a kiss to her nose. "…about how I was planning on having a New Year's party, and while having a wingwoman would be awesome, I'd much prefer going with a date. BUT…"

Santana let her words trail off teasingly, which seemed to get the diva underneath her adorably frustrated, Rachel crossing her arms across her chest. The girl wasn't upset, not with the hint of a smile on her face; Santana knew Rachel just needed her to continue, so when Berry spoke up, she knew what would be asked of her. "Santana, must you leave me with such a conversational cliffhanger? Please continue."

"Okay, okay. As I was saying, I'd prefer to go with you as my date instead of my wingwoman, but…" she stated with a soft smile, resting her forehead down against Rachel's. "It would make me pretty happy to both host a New Year's party to celebrate with all my friends, and to celebrate and show you off as my girlfriend. But, I mean, if we're not on the same level with that, then I…"

Santana wasn't all that surprised when her words were muffled by another kiss, knowing that using Rachel's own words against her would help prove her point a little, and let her show her affection a little easier and clearer. However, it was sadly a brief one, and Santana had to stifle a groan of how agonizing it was having what she wanted so close, but only being able to test-run it instead of getting a nice bit of traveling in on it. Sure, she knew words were still important and everything, but it didn't change that she really just wanted to kiss Rachel into oblivion over the next three or four hours.

"Santana Lopez, will you do me the honour of being my girlfriend?" Rachel asked, a giddy excitement in her voice that Santana couldn't deny was pretty exhilarating and awesome. And really, the question was pretty rhetorical at that point, but she figured that Rachel liked the formality of asking.

"It'd make me the happiest I've probably ever been, so yes. Right now, I'd like nothing more than to be your girlfriend." Santana answered, and it was pretty damn true; Rachel made her happy, and getting Berry exclusive and all to herself just seemed totes amazing. Her diva might not be the prettiest person she'd ever met, which was clearly Quinn Fabray, but Rachel was easily and by far the most beautiful whole person she'd ever had the fortune to meet, and even the thought of getting to be with that girl all the time had butterflies dancing around in her stomach. _I'm dating Rachel now! Hells yes! Oh I can't wait to show her around my house…my room…_

Instead of going in for another kiss, Rachel pulled Santana's head down and nuzzled her cheek, which was kind of nice, even if she really would have preferred some lip-action. Just getting affection from her girl was a really awesome feeling, anyway. "You're my girlfriend." Rachel whispered reverently, her eyes glistening in the darkness. Santana nodded simply and gave her girl a big affirming smile, one which the diva quickly returned. "And…and you're coming to New York after you graduate? You…you'll be open to maybe…you know…"

"Living together?" Santana asked quietly, earning a decisive nod from the diva. "Rachel, we could end up living together for sure, if that's what you'd like. So long as I have a roof over my head, a bed to sleep on, and my computer, I'll be good. If I can be with you, then even better, but even living apart couldn't keep me from seeing you, like, all the time. But right now? Right now, I'm thinking that we can iron out those details later, because we deserve some quality time together right here in the present."

Santana was pretty sure that if it weren't so dark and the girl's face wasn't pressed against hers, she would have seen Berry's blush; still, that small, shy smile out of the corner of her eye was pretty damn wonderful either way. And when Rachel nodded against her cheek and hugged her close, Santana couldn't help the happy sigh that escaped her.

"I would love to kiss you all night, Santana." Rachel stated softly, which was, like, a perfect symphony to her ears, and had her feeling like a kid on Christmas again. "However, if you wouldn't mind, I did some shopping today in preparation for what I planned out yesterday evening after dinner, and…well, I was wondering if you'd give it a try for me."

She pulled her head away and gave Rachel a curious look, wondering exactly what sort of shopping her girlfriend had done. "And what, may I ask, will be modifying our lip-locking session?" Santana figured it was a legitimate question, given that kissing Rachel was incredible enough as is; modifying it seemed like it could be pretty overwhelming.

"Well, I may have had a dream Christmas morning that involved you wearing a specific outfit…let's just say that it would make for a festive face-sucking event, I believe." Rachel noted nervously, her gaze darting away again, clearly shy about her request. "And…and while I obtained a fairly similar facsimile of it, I don't want to pressure you or anything into it, especially with our relationship being so young."

Santana could only giggle a little at how unsure Rachel was, because it sounded hot; hell, the fact that it was her who Rachel had dreamt of Christmas morning was immensely sexy, and if she could ignite that sort of passion in her girlfriend, and reap the benefits, then by all means. "Rachel, cupcake…I'd love to. It would suck to leave the bed right now, but for you? Just point me to where I need to go and I'll make it happen."

Rachel's appreciative smile nearly melted her heart, and the fresh lust in her brown orbs just finished the job with ease. "I have everything laid out in my room's ensuite. It's just…you're sure it's alright? Christmas is over. You don't have to."

"Babe, you make me feel like every day is a holiday, so whatever." Santana whispered softly, leaving a lingering kiss against Rachel's forehead before unwrapping herself from her girlfriend and slipping out of the bed. She didn't dare look back, knowing she'd get pulled back under those sheets by her own desires, so instead she looked straight ahead and made her way quickly through the cold house to Rachel's washroom. And when she found a particularly sexy outfit on hangers attached to the shower curtain bar, she couldn't help the devilish grin. _Aaaaah, she wanted some Santana Claus action. Well, well, well…she HAS been a good girl this year…_ she thought as she stripped and began slipping into the outfit piece by piece.

In the end, she was warmer, more clothed, and feeling goddamn sexy with all that red velvet, faux sheep's wool and faux leather covering her. Santana sauntered her way down the hall back to her room and quickly spotted a Rachel-sized lump in the bed, humming a familiar Christmas song. She smiled as she quietly approached, apparently not having drawn the girl's attention yet, somehow. In time with the song her diva was humming, though, she couldn't help but sing along. "Merry Christmas, darling…we're apart, that's true. But I can dream, and in my dreams…I'm Christmasing with you." Santana sang, Rachel's head whipping over to catch her gaze at the side of the bed. Taking the diva's wide-eyed lustful stare as an invitation to commence with the night's plan. "Think of this as a little belated gift from me to you, cupcake. Now, why don't you unwrap me, so you can enjoy me for the rest of the night?" She asked, turning her back to the girl who had, for all intents and purposes, planned out a successful heist on her heart. That thing was Rachel's now, and there really wasn't anything she could do about it, not that Santana really wanted to. Really, she was happy as hell, and when Rachel's possessive hands gripped her hips and slowly slid up to her corseted waist, she knew there wasn't anywhere she'd rather be.

And when Rachel slipped the corseted bodice off of her, the diva's soft hands leaving loving, tender touches across her bare skin, she knew she was gonna be in trouble for a damn long time, but she'd enjoy it for as long as it lasted, turning around in her girlfriend's arms and lifting her up enough to lay her on the bed. Santana knew Rachel wasn't ready for anything but kissing, so she'd keep it at that, and that was more than enough for her. Really, all she could ask for would be to spend the night with her girlfriend somehow; that was her belated Christmas wish, to spend it with Rachel and really express to her how happy she was, and how much she cared.

And when Rachel pulled her down for a deep, passionate kiss, her tiny lithe body arching into Santana's, well, she had a feeling her wish would come true. And with any luck, there would be many more such fulfilled wishes in her future. _Merry Christmas to all…and to all a good night!_

* * *

_Morning of December 28th_

* * *

Rachel could hardly suppress a smile as her internal clock forced her body to awaken, the diva quickly sobering enough to take stock of being held comfortably in Santana's arms; her GIRLFRIEND's arms. It was possibly one of her most successful plans that she'd ever executed, and she couldn't be more pleased with the end result. After the dinner on Boxing Day, she'd balked at any immediate romantic actions, wanting to plan something perfect instead of stumbling through everything like she had since Christmas morning. And when she realized that her avoidance had Santana on edge, Rachel had a good idea that the girl was on the hook, and when the cheerleader had left for Quinn's, she'd taken advantage of that afternoon by giving her fathers tickets to a comedian in Columbus, giving her the rest of the day to put her plan in place. It had just manifested in her mind the previous night when she'd seen her stacks of unused post-it notes for the semester, and had initially got her wondering what to do with them. Her solution had been pretty simple and decidedly romantic. Rachel could hardly be more proud of herself.

After all, she was laying in bed with her now-girlfriend, enjoying how wildly warm Santana was, and how entangled she was in the taller girl's body. It was as if Santana needed to make as much contact with Rachel as possible, and that warmed her heart. Certainly enough to just enjoy resting in the girl's arms, happily breathing in the scent of the cheerleader's alluring shower gel, for a good fifteen minutes. However, it got to be a little past six in the morning, and it would be a shame to waste the day, and she did spend all last night making out with her girlfriend instead of practicing, so she had some catching up to do.

So as gracefully and gently as possible, Rachel weaseled herself out of Santana's grasp and slinked down the hall and into her room for much needed daytime prep. First, she got onto her elliptical for her usual forty-five minute workout, getting her body prepared for the potential rigors of the day ahead. Second, she grabbed some clothes for the day from her closet, because it was always important for her to look her best, in case of any opportunities. Thirdly, she strolled into the washroom to have a shower, because she and Santana, while keeping to strictly above the waist activity, did happen to work up a bit of a sweat. Once freshly showered, Rachel proceeded to her fourth step with her morning skincare regimen, exfoliating and moisturizing to her usual standard. Finally, she added some basic makeup and got changed, feeling pretty dang wonderful. And when she thought back to the previous night, she couldn't help but just squeal out in happiness, her body just so full of gleeful giddiness that she couldn't help but dance in celebration.

And yes, her dance wasn't particularly elegant or graceful; in fact, it was a lot more goofy and childish, with jazz hands and twirls and making the sound effects of a symphony to provide herself celebratory music. It was a tradition for every major celebration since she was five, and she wasn't about to stop that tradition. Traditions were important, and she would perform her two minute and fifty six second dance to perfection as usual.

Except, the bathroom door opened with a good fifty three seconds to go, a half-asleep Santana leaning against the door frame, blinking her sleep away as she looked confusedly at her. And she really couldn't stop her tradition, so she held her best smile and continued singing the sound effects, because the show had to go on.

When she finished, Rachel looked to Santana, biting her lip nervously in hopes her girlfriend wouldn't think she was insane. Santana, in turn, looked her over carefully and opened her mouth to speak, only for the words to seemingly stick in her throat. So the cheerleader took two steps into the bathroom and proceeded to run one hand down Rachel's arm to lightly hold her hand.

"You're so weird...like, the weirdest, cutest diva. Seriously...where in the hell did you make up that dance?" Santana asked, rubbing her eyes tiredly, letting out a lengthy yawn. As much as Rachel wanted to protest the girl's insinuation that her dance was weird, she couldn't find the will to be upset, not with how adorable Santana looked.

"I was celebrating." Rachel stated succinctly, smiling up at her girlfriend in hopes of it being a perfectly acceptable answer to her inquiry.

Santana seemed to think about it for a minute or two, tapping a finger against her chin, running a hand through her hair, letting out a thoughtful hum. Rachel was willing to wait around to see what was on her girl's mind, given how perfectly happy she was that morning, and how wonderful of a start she'd had to the day. "Okay, cupcake. That's totes legit, I guess." Santana mumbled, mussing up Rachel's hair, which was pretty unfortunate and frustrating, but she wasn't able to think too hard about it with Santana picking her up and carrying her to her bed, plopping them both down onto it.

"San...Santana, I would very much like to get up and have breakfast right now. A hearty, well-balanced breakfast is important to starting off every day properly, and..." Rachel started, wriggling around underneath Santana, who seemed to be entirely content in laying on top of her and cuddling her into the mattress.

"Shhh. So's snugglin' with my girl for a bit, kay?" Santana mumbled again, interrupting Rachel mid-sentence with her words, and soft familiar arms wrapping around her waist. And really, it was a pretty wonderful feeling, being held so intimately and with Santana sighing happily onto her collarbone. Still, she was pretty hungry, and kind of wanted to get her morning started, so she laid with Santana for about twenty more minutes before making an attempt to head downstairs.

First, she poked at Santana, her fingers prodding at the girl's side, Santana's tank top having ridden up during their time laying together. The cheerleader squirmed at her touch a little, mumbling random syllables into her neck, clearly half asleep once again. "Santana, we need to get up and get you fed, okay? I'm sure you're hungry by now. Why don't we got something to eat?" she asked politely, hoping that sleepy Santana would also be a hungry Santana.

"But it's early...and 'm comfy." Santana spoke against her skin, clearly not a big fan of leaving where she was, what with Rachel being given another gentle squeeze. It was a nice gesture, but she could smell the blueberry muffins downstairs just ready to be devoured.

However, Rachel wasn't entirely out of options; she knew of at least one weakness to take advantage of. "But Santana...there are only a dozen of my cookies left. And I know how much you like them." Rachel stated, earning a thoughtful hum from her girl, but not a single physical movement to provide her with any escape route. deciding to step it up a bit, she leaned her head forward and kissed Santana's head. "And without the energy breakfast gives me, how will I possibly have the stamina to engage in multiple make-out sessions with you today?"

That seemed to get Santana's attention, the girl tensing slightly on top of her, but then Rachel felt herself being squeezed again. "Hrm. Sounds good. But only if we can have that movie night tonight."

Rachel hummed thoughtfully, wondering why so many of her conversations with her girlfriend turned into negotiations; however, she did think it was a decidedly healthy process. "How about if we have that movie night, but at least no funny business for one of the movies."

When Santana rolled off of her, Rachel couldn't help but cheer and do a celebratory fist-pump, excited for breakfast. And when Santana peppered her face with kisses, well, giggles erupted out of her, just happy to have her girlfriend and be able to eat her breakfast too. _The best morning ever..._

Still, despite Santana slipping off of her, it still took a good ten minutes to get the girl over to the guest room and get her changed into something presentable. Rachel wondered if every morning would be like that when they were out in New York, but a slow morning start-up would hardly be the worst thing ever to deal with on a consistent basis. And if the trade-off was an exponential increase in affection and being able to wake up in Santana's arms, perhaps, it would likely be worth whatever trouble caused.

"Well, are you ready to go downstairs and get some food with my fathers?" Rachel asked as they reached the staircase. The taller girl slowed her stride and stopped at the top stair, a thoughtful expression spread across her face. "Santana?" she asked, wondering what had given the girl pause.

"I just have a feeling that this is gonna be a long, eventful breakfast is all." Santana spoke softly, looking down at the landing of the stairs. And it was true, it was very likely that her dads would end up interrogating Santana over her intentions. "But I'll be okay. You got my back, right?"

Rachel could see Santana's confidence, yes, but there was a flicker of nervousness there in those dark brown eyes. So she reached out and took Santana's hand into her own and gave it a squeeze. "I'll be there with you every step of the way, no matter what. I promise." Rachel noted confidently, smiling brightly up at Santana, who seemed to take comfort in her certainty. "You're my girlfriend, and that means we're a team. So thankfully, I know each and every hospitality policy my fathers will raise, and excellent counterpoints to their potential concerns and arguments. Also, I could hold my baking abilities above their heads for leverage, even though I doubt it will be needed...they adore you, Santana. And more importantly, I adore you."

She blushed as Santana cupped her cheeks and planted a chaste kiss on her lips, smiling into the delightful gesture, pretty content in knowing that Santana will likely show her affection more through actions than words. Sure, Rachel loved talking, and loved hearing Santana speak, but she really did like every other form of affection by her girlfriend. And in that kiss, she could feel just how thankful her girl was, and that kind of meant everything.

So hand in hand, they descended the stairs, Rachel feeling pretty confident that they would start off the final leg of Santana's stay on a positive note. Heck, she was pretty sure New Year's would be wonderful, and Rachel had a great feeling about how she and Santana would fare in the coming year. Because while Christmas was now over and done with, she still had some time left to enjoy with her new girlfriend until they had to part ways, and nothing was about to tear that smile from her face. Not with Santana's hand in her own.

Not with her future brighter than ever.


	12. Epilogue

_Evening of December 16_ _th_ _(5 years later)_

* * *

Despite the frigid air whipping around Rachel's partially scarf-covered face, the cold front having made her walk home quite inhospitable, she felt like nothing could put a damper on her mood. She had just finished her final show of 'Wicked!' before her holiday sabbatical, starring as Elphaba, of course, and was excited to get home and spend some quality relaxation time with her girlfriend. This would be their first holiday season where neither had to worry about schoolwork, with Santana having graduated that past spring, and Rachel the spring prior to that. With no exams or final projects hanging over their heads, all Rachel could see ahead of her were long evenings ice-skating, taking the train out to long island for some good Christmas lights ogling, plenty of time in the kitchen baking up goodies for themselves and their friends, and perhaps even a quick weekend visit to New Hampshire to see Quinn and her boyfriend. Yes, this year's holidays, their fifth in New York City, were going to be so much FUN!

She could hardly keep from squealing as she briskly walked down the sidewalk toward the apartment building that she'd come to call home; it wasn't the largest living space in the city by any stretch, and it was still a place they rented instead of owned, but it was home right now. It was where she and Santana had experienced so much, and it was a thrill to return there every day or night after earning and living her dream. Knowing that Santana was usually there waiting for her when she returned, even if for just a little while before the woman went out to a recording studio or to DJ a club, just made it that much more thrilling.

If she were to be honest, the first year had probably been the hardest twelve months; returning to school with Santana on her arm after that winter break had sent something of a shockwave through McKinley. However, aside from an incident with Azimio over a slushie-related near-debacle, the school managed to settle down after about a week. The big impact had been at Santana's New Year's party with all the gleeks in attendance.

* * *

_**Flashback**_

* * *

Rachel was tickled pink at the attention she'd been receiving all night. She and Santana had devised something of a plan of action for the night in order to properly ramp things up into a nice, subtle dramatic peak; after all, it had been her first real party aside from the disaster she'd held at her own home, and many of the gleeks needed to acclimate to seeing her outside of school first. Rachel had trusted Santana with her attire for the night, which had been a wonderful decision due to how pleased she was with her overall look, and with how some of the gleeks and non-gleeks alike seemed to appreciate it. And, of course, Santana subtly giving her lustful glances didn't hurt one bit. Not at all.

So she was tasked with socializing for the first hour or two, talking up anyone she felt like talking to, which had been primarily the gleeks, but surprisingly she had enjoyed a pleasant chat with one of the junior cheerios, Keisha. It had been a tremendous shock that the girl had approached her, but it ultimately left Rachel feeling successful in that she could draw positive attention, and engage in small talk with strangers easily without scaring them away. An ego boost, for sure.

After the initial period was over, Rachel would have her single vodka cooler for the night, as she hadn't felt tremendously rebellious, nor had she seen the need to become terribly inebriated during her first major party. It was a night she wanted to remember for a plethora of reasons, most of which involving the third step, which involved games or karaoke. Santana had confided in her that the flow of the party would usually get out of the host's hands and into the masses, so whether karaoke came before or after the games was up to chance.

And it had sadly been delayed by games of 'Never Have I Ever' and 'Truth or Dare', both of which had been exciting and hysterically funny, both Santana and Brittany often teaming up to think up the strangest, most devious questions. Puck, for instance, had been required to nakedly jump off the second story balcony into a large pile of snow outside, something she hadn't envied him for. Thankfully, the snow wasn't too crusty, otherwise she was certain there would have been cuts in rather unfortunate places.

When the crowd started setting up for spin the bottle, Santana had provided a second option of karaoke, which the gleeks took up pretty happily, along with a small handful of others who she vaguely recognized from school.

So there she sat on Santana's couch in the basement, watching a redheaded cheerio and a tall lanky boy sing a rather forgivable rendition of Gowan's 'Moonlight Desires', a song that she honestly couldn't fathom anyone else their age knowing. _Perhaps one of their parents was a Styx fan, and one of them saw him sing it on tour with them…hrm…_

"Rachel, I've been putting it off all night because I swore to myself you were a mirage, but…you look fantastic tonight." Kurt noted happily as he sat down beside her, admiring the fabric of her dress. It really was a lovely pink lace number, and she really had needed a special dress for the occasion. Santana had offered it up, saying that it was kind of her 'sex-on-a-stick' dress, given how its tighter bust-line caused her breasts to nearly burst out, and its hem reached a little higher up on her thighs. On Rachel, though, it simply looked classy, yet sensual, and it had been a wonderful selection.

"Why thank you, Kurt. I had a little help with it, and I felt that tonight was worth celebrating." Rachel stated cheerfully, earning a broad smile from her friend.

"Help or not, you look stunning, which is fitting for your first big girl party. How has the night treated you so far?" He asked, though his attention flitted over to Blaine and Tina for a brief second, giving her a moment of pause before she knew his attention was fully returned to her. Drunk Kurt had a little ADD, and he could rarely focus properly on more than one thing at a time, she'd learned.

"It's been a wonderful party so far, I'm ready to ring in a new year, a better year. I'd like to think tonight will start it all off on a fantastic note." Rachel noted excitedly, eager to get her shot at singing. Initially, she and her girlfriend had planned on performing a duet, but Santana had legitimately started contracting a cold. Thus, Rachel had insisted that the girl rest her voice and let herself be serenaded by her girlfriend; which Santana eventually agreed to do, after much coercion in the form of promised 'Pezberry couch time'. The idea was that if they couldn't kiss, and Santana couldn't sing with her at the party, Rachel would spend more time with her hanging out. It truly hadn't been a difficult negotiation on her end.

Kurt nodded feverishly, clearly buzzed, but happily so. "I know! Tonight's been wonderful, and next year…nationals, New York, NYADA…I can't wait!" Kurt exclaimed, practically vibrating in excitement. Rachel didn't want to get TOO far ahead of herself, but she liked to imagine her, Santana and Kurt living together, knowing her girlfriend wouldn't have an issue with it. The only question was whether Kurt would, but she was sure that Santana would eventually win the fashionista over given time. She'd pop the question to him once they got their applications back; once they knew whether they'd have auditions, she'd hopefully work at committing to having two roommates.

"We can do it Kurt. I know this is our year…we're going to take New York by storm, and soon enough you'll have Blaine by your side, and I'll have my person, and NYADA won't know what hit it! First we need to go through Chicago at nationals for glee, but I think we can conquer two cities, don't you?" She asked cheekily, tinkling her cooler against Kurt's glass of whatever he was drinking.

"I just can't believe we're so close to our dream…I mean…Broadway will just be a subway ride away! And Blaine will visit some weekends, and he'll join us in our second year and…and I'm so certain you'll find someone outside of this hick town who will appreciate you, Rachel. I just know it, I know it." Kurt rambled happily, patting her on the shoulder. She wondered what his reaction to the night's festivities would be, given their collective history, but she could imagine Santana getting a kick out of it all. At the very least, Rachel knew they had Quinn on their side, the blonde having made it very clear that she was happy for them both during an impromptu visit the previous day. It was an odd thing to understand, but Santana and Quinn were apparently a package deal in some respects. They could fight and bicker often enough, but when it came to who they associated with and dated, they generally supported each other with only rare exceptions. So in essence, what was San's was now Rachel's, which meant that Quinn was now her fully-fledged friend, which was an improvement from the acquaintance status she had enjoyed from the blonde previously. And while they hadn't spent much time together the previous day, it had been very easy getting along with Quinn, which was really tremendously nice for a change.

Once the Gowan-appreciating duo finished their song, Rachel got up and out of her seat, squeezing Kurt's shoulder in support and giving him a playful wink, which left him immediately puzzled, a state which she was happy to leave him in as she moved to the impromptu stage she'd set up earlier that morning.

Rachel lowered the mic on the stand to a proper height for her stature and then let her eyes scan the crowd. All the gleeks were surprisingly there, along with that Keisha Cheerio, the pair that had just finished, and apparently some of the football jocks. It was a nice audience, especially with her girlfriend trying her best to keep her smiling under check. Though Santana did send her a wink and the subtlest of blown kisses, which was rather sweet of her.

"I know you're all down here to hear some music and singing, but I have something to say before I start, I promise it's not long. I just want to dedicate this song to the person who, over the winter break, has left me breathless in their effort to win my friendship, and who won my heart so easily that it felt like the most natural thing in the world to trust it with them. This song is for you." Rachel announced, earning the odd jeer from Puck and Sam, while the gossipers all seemed alight with anticipation over finding out who was the source of the newest bit of Berry drama. Rachel took her eyes off the crowd and set up a song that, while she might not mean each word absolutely literally quite yet, she was certainly close enough. Besides, she was positive that Santana understood there were very few songs out there celebrating being on the brink of love with another person, especially ones that challenged her vocal abilities. Over the past week, many songs had flit through Rachel's mind, but one kept resurfacing, and so she stood there as the dreamy synthesizer intro started the song off; it wasn't likely a song that many, perhaps outside of the previous pair and a few others, would recognize, but it was sweet, and was mostly what she had been feeling.

"I never needed love like I need you…And I never lived for nobody, but I live for you. Ooooh babe, lost in love is what I feel…when I'm with you." Rachel sang sweetly, seeing some looks of recognition in the crowd, though some were simply trying to figure out who she was singing to, conversing to each other in muted whispers during her performance. It was slightly rude, but she didn't mind; Santana was looking so adoringly at her that the rest of the audience could have up and left, and it wouldn't have bothered her.

"Maybe it's the way you touch me…with the warmth of the sun. Maybe it's the way you smile, I come all undone. Ooooh babe, lost in love is what I feel…when I'm with you." She continued, ready to pick it up a notch in the chorus, having trained in secrecy over the past two days for her song selection. "Baby… ooh, I get chills when I'm with you, ohhh…Oh, baby… my world stands still when I'm with you. When I'm with you…" She finished that section off with the teensiest of smiles toward her girl; it was so cute to see Santana trying to hold it together, she was such a softie. The girl just couldn't help herself when it came to music, it always drew her emotions out, and Rachel knew San was doing a fairly heroic job at stemming her tears. _Maybe I'll lift the kissing ban for the rest of the night…Yeah, I think that would be for the best._ She thought, prepping her lungs for the next verse.

"I never cared for nobody, like I care for you. And I never wanted to share the things I want to share with you. Ooooh babe, lost in love is what I feel… when I'm with you. Baby… ooh, I get chills when I'm with you, ohhh…Oh, baby… my world stands still when I'm with you, ohhh ohhh…" She sang, not caring at all about secrecy anymore, just wanting to finish the song gazing into Santana's deep, soulful eyes, pushing out every drop of emotion into the rest of the song so that she could hit the notes she needed to, that she knew she could.

"Baby… ooh, I get chills when I'm with you ohhh…Oh baby… my world stands still when I'm with you. When I'm with you…When I'm with you…" She finished, hitting that long-held high note and sustaining it for as long as she could, closing her eyes so that she could focus on it fully, because she respected the songs she performed, and needed to do them justice. Freddy Curci's breath control and range were fairly spectacular given the genre of his music, and being able to hold that note for thirty seconds was a juggernaut of a challenge. She managed twenty six and change, opening her eyes as she breathed in to see her fellow gleeks on their feet, mostly clapping and cheering.

It was a wonderful feeling, applause; in a way, she lived for it, and to hear it come from not only those she cared for, but from strangers as well was incredibly uplifting. It made her feel weightless as she stepped off the stage and walked over to a silently crying Santana Lopez, staring proudly at her with awe and what looked so much like love in her eyes. The clapping faded to a halt as she made her way closer, the room falling into a hushed silence and she reached up and wiped a steam of tears from her girlfriend's cheek.

There was no way that Santana was in any condition to speak, or likely even form words, so she got up on her tippy toes and let her lips softly press against her girlfriend's, her arm reaching up to grab the base of the girl's neck to stabilize her as the target of her affections reciprocated passionately in a long, tender kiss. The occasional hitched breathing of her girlfriend separated them for brief instances, Santana clearly still emotional over the performance, though they remained happily latched onto each other until she clearly heard Artie's verbalized shock above the murmur.

"Daaaaaang, who saw THAT coming?" He called out, suddenly triggering the rest of the gleeks to blurt out their own statements and exclamations. "This shit's cray!"

She just rested her head against Santana's cheek and soaked in the happiness of proudly being attached to a wonderful young woman, her girlfriend having chosen much higher heels than her that night.

"Oh my GOD. Berry and Satan?!" Mercedes cried out, followed by what sounded like Brittany hopping up and down and literally squealing with glee. The second pair of squealing, slightly more obnoxious, was probably Sugar. Other voices chimed in afterward, and many hands lightly patted themselves on their shoulders and backs, but Rachel only had eyes and ears for Santana.

"You might get sick, though…" Her girlfriend pouted, brushing a stray lock of hair from Rachel's face. It was true, there was a distinct chance that she would catch Santana's cold, but the girl's worrying was endearing, and she really just wanted to kiss that pout away. So she did.

"If I do, will you take care of me?" She asked, coyly biting her lip, which earned a bright smile from the taller girl. As if she even needed to ask.

* * *

_Evening of December 16_ _th_ _  
_

* * *

Some members had worried about some sort of elaborate hoax, which had brought about a little friction for a day or so, at least until Rachel managed to convince them otherwise with a somewhat redacted version of what had gone on between herself and Santana since the break began. Nevertheless, eventually their fellow gleeks had settled down and acclimated to the rather radical change in dynamic between them, though as time passed, Rachel had worried. In truth, she had dated a few people in her life, but most relationships were ultimately off and on with a set expiry date, nothing where she felt that she had a committed partner who would stick with her through thick and thin. And for the first three months, her love of show tunes and musicals did wear on the taller girl, which had resulted in a few arguments. Some of which Rachel could admit were more to see if Santana would cut and run like the rest, but the girl had remained. It had gotten a little dicey, though, during her preparation for her NYADA audition, which fell alongside Santana's prep for her portfolio submission for Tisch; tensions had admittedly spiked to an all time high. _Well, maybe not as high as that first morning…at least, for Santana. I certainly wasn't tremendously worried…_

* * *

_**Flashback**_

* * *

The scent of blueberry muffins and apple cinnamon oatmeal filled the kitchen as Rachel and Santana walked in, both fathers looking their way with curious smiles before LeRoy crossed the room and hugged the diva.

"Good morning, you two. We were wondering when you would find your way down for breakfast, cupcake. It's not like you to be so late." He noted, and Rachel could only shrug, taking a moment to decide on a plan of action to start off their breakfast conversation. It was clear that while LeRoy was unaware that Rachel was still holding Santana's hand, Hiram noticed, staring thoughtfully at their interlaced hands.

"Santana and I had some things to discuss this morning, which on top of my usual morning workout and routine ultimately led me to be fifty minutes later than usual. With that all out of the way, I'm so curious to hear how the show was last night!" She spoke excitedly, clapping her hands from eager anticipation as she sat down at the table, Santana's hand leaving her own as her girlfriend went to grab them both some food. Rachel could see that Hiram was in a good mood, but was still looking suspiciously at Santana, which meant that any diversion she had planned to set the morning off on the right tone wasn't likely to last long.

LeRoy followed Rachel to the table and instead of sitting at his usual spot, sat beside Hiram, only furthering her understanding that they collectively knew something was up. Still, they seemed in a good mood, so she wasn't worried. Not one bit.

"I'm not sure Hiram's ever laughed so hard, Hannibal Burress really knew how to put on a good show." LeRoy stated, earning an eye roll from her other dad, who playfully nudged him in response.

"Don't act as if the couple in front of you wasn't tired of hearing your howling laughter, LeRoy. I think we both know we were the resident hyenas of the crowd last night." Hiram noted with amusement, before turning his gaze to Rachel just as Santana handed her a bowl and a muffin before taking her own seat. "It really was a thoughtful gift, cupcake."

Rachel was about to respond, but LeRoy beat her to the proverbial punch, leaning forward on his forearms. "Though it was a little strange to come back to such a dark home. Usually you at least leave the porch light on. And then there were those candles scattered around the living room and upstairs bathroom. And the hallway." LeRoy spoke with a sort of mock seriousness that she was used to, but apparently Santana couldn't see through it, feeling the girl take hold of her hand out of the view of her fathers.

"And when we checked in on you, as caring and attentive parents are oft to do, it was curious to find more candles, yet an empty bed." Hiram stated with a bit of an edge in his voice, looking pointedly at Rachel, wordlessly asking for an explanation.

Taking a moment to both compose herself and give Santana's hand a comforting squeeze, she straightened her posture and continued with her game plan. "I apologize if you feel that there was some sort of trickery last night. In truth, you both know that each year since I was thirteen, I have bought you tickets to a play or comedy act between Christmas day and New Year's Day, a tradition I was keen on following this year, seeing as it would be my last living in this house as a young adult. Yesterday afternoon, after you both had departed, it came to my attention that I could advance a plan that I had been thinking up over the past few days, so with such little notice, and with your phones turned off, I couldn't confide in you my hopes for the night ahead." Rachel noted, doing her best to establish both context and reasoning for her actions, and why she truly hadn't been sneaking behind her parents' backs. She really wasn't, it just ended up happening that way. Her fathers simply shifted their gazes between Rachel and Santana, and nodded for her to continue. "As you may have noticed, since Santana has been staying here with us, our friendship has grown, and we've been spending more time together, sharing traditions, practicing together, relaxing with each other during our TV marathons…needless to say, we've both grown rather close."

At that, Hiram looked to Santana and nodded, a small smile gracing his face. "We have noticed. I know we both have really appreciated how nice it's been to have you here as a guest, Santana. Why, it was very _considerate_ that you took Rachel out for dinner the day after Christmas, wasn't it LeRoy?"

"Oh, most certainly. We worry about our daughter when we aren't around, and it's important to us that if she has company, that she be with someone _considerate_ and _respectful_ of the Berry family values. And I trust that you were the model citizen, Santana." He added, and Rachel could feel the tension roiling inside her girlfriend. Thankfully, a brief glance showed that Santana appeared unaffected, so her fathers' teasing and prodding wasn't earning them the reaction they desired.

"Dad, daddy, I can assure you that Santana followed proper etiquette during dinner out. We had a healthy discussion, split the bill, and spent the night tending to our own projects and interests. We're both grown women and know how to handle ourselves appropriately in public." Rachel asserted, earning a nod from Hiram and an amused expression from LeRoy, one she was immediately suspicious of.

"And as grown women, are you aware of how to behave appropriately in private as well? There's no TV in the guest room, so it wasn't like you two fell asleep watching movies." He stated with a challenging glance at Santana, who visibly flinched beside her. "I'm certain that neither of you grown women would take advantage of our absence to get up to any behaviour under the Berry Household Code of Conduct's section C."

Rachel heard a nearly muted 'What?' from Santana, clearly confused about their home's rulebook. However, she was ready, and had long since memorized the tome. "If you would have let me continue, I would have filled you in on last night's events, but if you insist on knowing, we did not breach anything under section C. If you noticed, the door to the guest room was not fully closed last night, nor was there any sexual intercourse." Rachel stated firmly, noticing Santana looking at her in her periphery, the girl's mouth agape in surprise. She knew that perhaps she should have made her girlfriend aware of it beforehand, but her family was rather open about things like sex. Her parents had taught her well, and she'd committed to being open with them about any such activity so that she could reserve some safe, controlled location for it rather than the back of a filthy car or any such equivalent.

"What happened yesterday was that I acted on a plan I had been preparing over the past few days. Ever since Santana had opened up to me, and had helped me with my insecurities, I realized that I had indeed developed amourous feelings for her. You both know that when I commit to an idea, I fully commit, so I planned out a nice, intimate night for the both of us, we talked about how we felt, and we decided to enter a romantic relationship with each other. The candles were placed to set a certain mood, and I apologize for not cleaning up after myself, although I did notice that there are nearly fifty candles in this household, which was staggering to discover! I also apologize for not leaving a note, but since I had left a number of notes out for Santana to lead her upstairs, I didn't want to break the very important illusion I had spent all afternoon crafting. Surely, you both can understand that." Rachel noted hastily, but with as calm a tone as she could muster. She could see that Santana was looking a little uncomfortable, so she squeezed the girl's hand again, just trying to let her know that it was going okay. That it would be okay.

Hiram nodded slowly, resting his chin on steepled fingers. "So your plan was to lure Santana upstairs for…what, exactly? A romantic talk about your feelings? Was that truly all?"

Rachel gasped, rightfully so, at the lack of appreciation for the work she had put into the previous night. For it to be reduced to such a few words felt a little insulting. "First off, I made it seem as if the power had gone out in the house, using candles and a series of notes to guide Santana through the house. The idea was to slowly develop an intimate, romantic atmosphere using my feminine wiles, eventually leading her to the guest room, which I chose solely due to the fact that I had just finished a load of laundry, leaving the sheets warm. I know how much Santana likes to relax in bed, so I thought it would appeal to her as a safe, comfortable location. Also, I had noticed some level of attraction on her part, so I was hoping to express my feelings to her as she'd already done for me, basically, and eventually ask her out on a date. Ultimately, she presented me with the opportunity to ask her to be my girlfriend, which she accepted. And my secondary hope was that we could kiss, which we did." She added, feeling proud of her efforts in winning over Santana; nothing could take away the pride she felt in having one of her plans be so effective.

LeRoy took a sip of his coffee, which Rachel hoped he could appreciate due to it existing because Santana bought him a coffee machine that he could actually work. "No need to get upset, cupcake, we know you go all out on your plans, and from what I understand, it was pulled off magnificently." LeRoy noted, which had her smiling proudly, because it HAD gone off magnificently. "We just know that you tend to get overeager, and when you do, you can be a little impulsive. We didn't want you…either of you… to dive into a situation you weren't prepared for."

While LeRoy was being the level-headed parent in fully accepting them and not questioning their behaviour too extensively, she could tell Hiram had more questions. "On that note, if you both worked all of that out last night, why would you need fifty whole minutes this morning to 'talk'?" He asked, clearly skeptical as he air-quoted the final word, though she could tell from the little twitch of one of his crow's feet that he was being playful more than anything.

"Let me make it clear that we didn't violate anything under section C this morning, either. Stop trying to scare Santana." Rachel asserted, knowing her girlfriend was rather nervous at the moment, and was clearly not very comfortable.

"Rachel, cupcake, you didn't answer my question. Santana, would you like to tell me what you two did this morning for fifty minutes?" Hiram continued, and Rachel huffed, knowing that under hospitality rule nineteen, that she wasn't allowed to answer any questions specifically posited to her significant others.

She turned to face her girlfriend, who was looking more than a little pale, biting her lip adorably under the stressful gazes of her fathers. Rachel watched her girl swallow, take a deep breath and nod, trying to neutralize her expression as best as possible. "We didn't…like, have sex or anything like that. I mean…Rachel wakes up really early, like… too early for me. And when I got up, she was gone, so I went to find her, and she was doing this cute little dance, and I had no idea what was going on, and I was still really tired, so I…I…" Santana's words stalled in her mouth as she bit her lip, looking a little flustered and perhaps a little shy.

"You…what?" LeRoy asked pointedly, prodding her girlfriend to continue her account of the morning's activities.

"I kind of just pulled her onto her bed and fell asleep on her. And when she woke me up again, I didn't want to get up, but she kept, like, giving me reasons to come down here, you know, and stop cuddling her to death. And eventually we agreed to, and that's why we were late, it wasn't because of anything…I mean…" Santana continued, now incredibly flustered, her words coming out at a fiery pace, her fathers not making it any better on the girl, what with both of them offering her stony glares. "I…can you…I mean…just stop looking at me like that! I've caught you guys macking on each other with jazz hands all over each other, like, three times in the living room and kitchen! You can't hate on me for just wanting to catch some Zs with my girlfriend, it's not fair!"

Rachel gasped loudly at Santana's words, shooting her fathers an accusing glare. "You didn't! You're here lecturing and interrogating us about possible hospitality breaches when you broke regulations of section C, rule twelve THREE TIMES?! 'Active, prolonged groping in a public room is strictly forbidden'! And rule four could be argued, if you were 'kissing with tongue for a period longer than five seconds in a public room', which I can only imagine you were!"

"Rachel, honey…" Hiram started, but Rachel stomped her foot in annoyance, quieting him for the moment. And maybe she needed to glare at him a little and raise her hand a bit, because her foot just barely was able to graze the ground. Even if it grazed it menacingly.

"Santana and I are grown women and will abide by the rules of this house while in this house. She knows and respects that I'm not prepared for sex right now, but there will be activity ranging from kissing to various sorts of foreplay while in my room or the guest room, where both doors will remain partially shut for everyone's convenience. Santana, as a more experienced partner, will assuredly provide the practical experience to match my researched knowledge so that we remain safe in any of our sexual endeavours, if or when we cross that bridge. I expect you to be respectful toward her and not pester her with teasing threats or anything of the sort from here on out, and not that I should have to say so, since I know you both like her, but any slight against her is one against me. We will remain respectful of you both and engage in appropriate behaviour while you are present, but as promised in the Berry Household Code of Conduct, the house is a safe zone, and just as I'm certain you two engage in sexual activity when I'm out of the house, or asleep, or apparently even when I'm nearby too from Santana's assertions, we should be able to expect the same opportunity minus the more blatant breaches of conduct. Am I clear?" Her impromptu speech was fairly solid, Rachel figured, but she left room for questions or concerns from her fathers just in case they thought up anything she hadn't covered in her spiel.

However, Hiram and LeRoy looked sheepish and proud respectfully, the latter looking at his watch and darting out of his chair. "Oh drat, I'm going to be late for work!" He called out in frustration, kissing Hiram's cheek before dashing toward the foyer. "Have a great day, I'll see you all at dinner!"

The sound of the door shutting prompted Hiram to get up at all, looking over at the clock hanging on the wall. "I should have enough time to shower, do some light reading before I head in as well." He noted quietly, before looking remorsefully at Rachel and then Santana. "I'm sorry for putting you both on the spot. Fatherly duties and all."

Rachel raised her eyebrows, letting him know she wasn't entirely impressed with his antics given his recent behaviour, in front of a houseguest of all people. And three times within a time span of less than two weeks was absurd, and had her wondering how perceptive she truly was if Santana had stumbled into such instances. Still, the morning's interrogation was more or less what she'd expected, and the both of them had fared well in the end.

Hiram left the kitchen seconds later, leaving Santana and her alone to finish their cooling breakfasts, which was alright by her, though she knew she'd spend part of the day disinfecting the counter tops and everything, just in case.

As she chewed on a spoonful of oatmeal, she felt Santana's lips tenderly press against her slightly full cheeks, startling her a little bit. It wasn't as if she hadn't expected some affection, but it seemed an odd time to give it. "So that was kind of embarrassing, awkward and scary…" the girl whispered against her skin, Rachel swallowing so that she could return the conversation but a lingering second kiss to the corner of her jaw stilled any words forming in her mind. "But you…that was sexy, what you did at the end, there. Just saying."

Rachel felt blood fill her cheeks, spreading out across her face from how disoriented Santana's words had her. Her eyes found her half-eaten bowl of oatmeal just as her mind realized that once she finished it, she could return upstairs and kiss Santana for as long as she'd like. And if the girl's nose repeatedly nuzzling her cheek wasn't a sign for her to hurry up and finish, she wasn't sure what was. The occasional kiss and sultry whispered promises, however, more than solidified their morning's schedule rather concretely.

* * *

_Evening of December 16_ _th_

* * *

It had been a rather intense morning, but not only had it culminated in a rather fantastic make-out session, it had let them establish a proper foundation going forward, one that got them through those final rigors of high school to graduation and a glee club nationals championship. They'd spent much of the summer working and saving up money, with a bit of apartment hunting near the start of August.

It had been their eleventh viewing of the day when they had found it; both of them had been exhausted from walking around and enduring the high-paced energy of the city, but once Rachel had stepped inside, she knew that it was where she needed to start off her life in New York. And thankfully, Santana had been just as enamored by the place as she had been. It certainly didn't hurt that there was a nice little coffee shop and diner nearby for when they were in a pinch, there was a grocery nearby for regular stocking up of food, and it wasn't far from a subway stop, meaning the commute further into the city would be quicker. It had been perfect, and after laying down a cash deposit and signing a contract, it was theirs for a one year lease. A lease that they had happily renewed each year since, and would celebrate each anniversary with some homemade vegan pizza, much like Santana had cooked up for their first dinner in their new place.

Kurt hadn't made it into NYADA, so he had sadly backed out at the time, though Rachel and Santana just saw it as an opportunity. It certainly didn't hurt that Kurt found his way to the city a few months later with an internship at Vogue, renting out a tiny flat in Queens on his own. Not that they hadn't offered to make room for him, but he'd claimed a need for privacy, which they respected, and eventually the trio developed a weekly routine get-together for lunch or drinks. In truth, she and Santana had routines for a lot of days of the week, or some specific days of the month even, and as she walked into the entrance to her building, she knew it was Santana's night to cook a nice meal for them both, Rachel having done it the previous week.

Rachel made her way up to the third floor and paused curiously as she grabbed the door handle, just now noticing the tiny wreath decorating it. Smiling at the festive touch, she pulled the door open and stepped into a wonderful smelling apartment, knowing something good was in the oven. She stripped her boots off and hung up her coat, stepping out of their tiny foyer into the relatively open floor-plan living area-meets-kitchen-meets-dining room, freezing in place as her eyes took in all the changes. Santana Lopez had decorated.

They had both been tremendously busy lately, with her finishing her recent run on Broadway for the year, and Santana having a wide variety of jobs ranging from producing for a number of up and coming stars to DJing to recording her own original material. Her girlfriend had managed to convince her to wait to decorate when the 17th rolled around and she was officially on break; apparently Santana couldn't wait until tomorrow, which shouldn't have been much of a surprise, given how much the woman loved the holidays. Despite a boatload of tinsel, lights and other decorations clearly spattered around the apartment, it was clear from the bare tree that there was still plenty of work yet to be done, and that her girlfriend just got a head start on her. _Probably means she wants to take pictures of me decorating tomorrow morning…that could be nice, using her as a decoration pack mule for a bit!_

With Santana on her mind, her gaze traced the area around her, finding that it was entirely void of the woman. Frowning in confusion, knowing Santana rarely left the oven on without attending to it, she stepped into the kitchen, finding the oven was on a low temperature, keeping an obviously cooked meal nice and hot. _She's probably just stepped out, then…_ she mused, turning toward the hall leading to the washroom and their bedroom when she noticed something peculiar on the dining room table.

The table had been set for two, as usual, but in place of their usual candle in the middle, there was a tree ornament resting up beside a small card. Curious, she picked up the ornament, smiling at all the memories it held. It had been LeRoy's favourite ornament, a finely carved wooden snowman sculpture that his father had made for him when he was a child; he'd passed it onto her when she had moved out, which had been tremendously touching because it had always been her favourite as well. Gently placing the snowman down, she picked up the card and opened it, letting out an airy giggle at the picture of Santana and LeRoy laughing at her during her birthday so long ago. Even after so many memories, that one was still one of her fondest, marking the day where Santana started to make inroads into her heart.

To the right of the picture was Santana's loopy calligraphy.

_You know, I was really happy, that morning. Kind of wanted to smack you when you gave me lip over the carrot, but your reaction to my sculpture was priceless. You were so cute! The night before, I'd been thinking the day would be some dramatic disaster, and that I'd have to be a hermit until January hit. Instead, I ended up just wanting to get that kind of reaction from you again. Didn't have much of a chance, though… got sleepy. Whoops!_

Rachel smiled at the peculiar note, wondering exactly why her girlfriend had left the two objects on the dining room table of all places. Curious, but very much ready for some hot chocolate to warm her chilled body, she moved to the cabinets and reached up for her favourite mug. Santana told her it was too predictable, being gold and pink and glittery with stars, but she cherished it.

As she brought it down, she noticed it was a little heavier than usual, and soon found that it had a rather pretty gold and red sparkly ball ornament inside along with another card. Rachel was officially in sleuth mode now, and hastily pulled the card out, feeling a nice nostalgic ache in her chest as she saw one of her favourite pictures inside. They hadn't had much money, given that rent cost them a large chunk of their budget each month; with both struggling to find and balance work with school, it didn't leave them with much spending money.

So there they were, celebrating her first birthday in New York, Rachel drinking red wine out of her precious mug, while Santana had hers in a thermos. Many of the dishes had been dirty, so they'd just settled for what clean ones they could find, and despite their mostly frugal state of living, it had been a fantastic evening. Again, there was a small note scrawled on the other side of the card.

_Your first birthday in the big city! And more importantly, my second one spent with you, of course! It's strange what a year can do, but when I sat across from you, feeling totally silly drinking wine out of a damn thermos, I kinda knew that we really had something special going on. Like, I knew it before to some degree, but it was one of my many 'Whoa' moments, I guess. Everything just clicked. Anyway, two more sleeps, cupcake!_

Somehow, that term of endearment had persisted across the years, despite Rachel's petitions for a new one. It's not that she felt weird about it or anything, and she did get that it was basically saying that she was short and sweet and utterly delectable, which was true. However, it would have been nice to have something a little more mature.

Once she'd prepped a mug of hot chocolate, Rachel decided to scour the living room, having exhausted the rest of the kitchen. She wasn't entirely sure what the little scavenger hunt was for, but she knew that their fifth anniversary was coming up in a few days, and that maybe Santana was starting the celebration early. her girl was always a little impatient, after all. It didn't take long to find another one, a crystal star ornament and card nestled beside the award she'd received for her first winter showcase victory.

Inside the card wasn't the photo she expected, though; Rachel had expected the one of them celebrating in their apartment afterward in their fancy dresses. Instead it was an impromptu photo that she'd never seen before of her reaction to the win. Rachel wasn't sure how it existed, not only because she'd never seen it, but because almost as soon as the winner was announced, she'd launched herself into Santana in the seat beside her. It really was a wonderful picture, though, and she'd be sure to ask Santana for a copy for one of her scrapbooks.

_As if there was any other choice. Yet there you were, surprised that you won, after basically making everyone a weepy, emotional mess. It totes wasn't just me. Though, you just HAD to sing a Christmas song, didn't you? My favourite one at that. I'd say it wasn't fair, and I'd be right, because you sang so beautifully that night that free entry just seemed like thievery. Yet, everyone should hear you sing at least once in their life, because it sounds like love, and I'm blessed to be able to hear it every morning in the shower when you're singing Spice Girls and The Commodores like an adorable maniac. And then I remember you're my adorable maniac, and I can fall back to sleep happily, knowing that. How'd I get so lucky? Let me know sometime, kay?  
_

Rachel took a moment to really just take in the fact that Santana apparently could hear her in the shower during her morning routine. It was a little embarrassing, singing cheesy songs and dancing under the warm jets of water, but it was always something she just felt like doing; it was hard to wake up in a bad mood with Santana's arms around her every morning, after all. And yet, Santana had always liked that little bit of craziness of hers, so she couldn't feel bad about it. Just a little embarrassed that she got caught.

It had taken a while to recognize, but over the span of her first year living with Santana, she'd realized that her girlfriend had worded her compliments very specifically in a few ways, especially ones about her voice. Initially, it had been a little frustrating that the girl would rarely say anything involving assessing the technical quality of one of her songs, rarely saying anything more than 'It was great', or 'Everything sounded right, you know that'. Yet, she'd get a fair share complimenting her song selection, the emotion she put into the songs, and basically what intangibles she had that were related to her voice. It hadn't made sense at first, but she'd eventually gotten Santana to admit that she didn't want Rachel to think that her voice was all she was, but that the girl singing it was even more special. So she'd tried to steer compliments away from her technical singing ability, and toward what it was that helped her be so technically proficient, what made her performances so passionate, and so forth. It had been rather touching, and she was happy to know that even if Santana wasn't terribly good with words, she put thought and tremendous care into them.

She moved away from her mantle of awards, spotting another on the small end table by the minor hole in the wall that Kurt had put there during one visit a few months back. They hadn't gotten around to fixing it yet, and Rachel couldn't help but wonder what the point was, placing an ornament and card there.

The ornament, half-hidden by the card, revealed itself to be an ice-skating penguin, bringing a wide grin to her face, recalling exactly what had prompted its purchase. She didn't need to open the card to know that the picture inside would be them in the hospital waiting room, Santana giving a cheeky thumbs up to Kurt, the photographer at the time, while she fussed over her girlfriend's fairly bloody injury.

It had been their first Christmas in New York, and Rachel had been so excited to do everything. Within a few days, they'd both been exhausted, but she'd dragged Santana out to go ice-skating on Christmas Eve. Her girlfriend had been reluctant initially, but some tasty hot chocolate had curbed any negative attitude, and soon they were happily skating, hand-in hand. At least, until she tripped on a rut in the ice and accidentally tackled Santana down, her girlfriend hitting her pretty head off the ice.

It had been an absolutely terrifying moment, blood seeping out just above Santana's right eyebrow, the girl clearly a little concussed. Going face first into the ice was hardly a pleasant endeavor, after all. She'd managed to get some help in getting her girlfriend off the ice and thankfully Santana had spent a decent amount of money on a healthcare plan, so it was no trouble getting her into a cab and off to the hospital. They'd had to wait in that forsaken emergency waiting room for close to three hours before Santana was seen to, and thankfully Kurt and his boyfriend at the time had stopped by for a brief visit to boost morale. At least by that point, her girl was awake and trying to be cheerful for both of their sake, because Rachel was admittedly quite distraught and guilt-stricken over it all.

_Okay, so you know I love when you fuss over me, and I know I'm irresistible, but did you really have to tackle me in a moment of weakness? Okay, I kid, I kid. Seriously, though. You made our first Christmas hectic, but it was a blast, and aside from the periods where I blacked out from the head trauma, it was memorable. And it was just you and me, and that was more than enough for me. So long as I'm with you, I have all I need. I promise you that. That was the first Christmas in a long time, btw, where I was able to address gifts to anyone as 'Love, Santana'. Call me a sap, but that made this one extra special, especially since I was giving them to you._

Rachel shook her head at her girlfriend's silliness, her heart melting at her words. With Santana, it was rarely about the big dramatic romantic moments; rather, it was often the smallest, simplest things that meant the most to her, and it was so wonderful to keep learning more and more about the woman she loved.

She turned to leave the living room, fairly convinced that her work was done in that room, until her eyes caught sight of a small object practically hidden beneath one of the couch cushions, a card resting beneath it. Rachel lifted the cushion, seeing a little ornament of Santa eating a cookie; it was one of the many ones she and Santana had picked up over the years, and if she recalled correctly, it was some cheeky reference to her dream during that first Christmas, mixed with a healthy dose of Santana loving any reminder of her Christmas sugar cookies. Curious, she flipped the card open, spying a picture of the both of them during her third birthday celebration in New York.

It was a picture that brought back some mixed feelings; Santana had brought her to this ridiculously fancy vegan restaurant, spending far, far too much money, more than she'd been comfortable splurging at the time. Rachel had admittedly got a callback the previous day, solidifying her as a lead in an off-Broadway production of Spring Awakening, which would start readings at the beginning of the new year, so there HAD been reason for celebration. it was her first lead outside of school productions.

That said, the part hadn't promised to pay well at all, and with it taking up a wealth of her free time, on top of school, she barely would have any time to see Santana, and there would be added financial strain from her quitting her waitressing job. The revelation once they had gotten home that Santana had splurged nearly two months of her savings from DJing on the night had only caused her temper to flare over them not seeing each other ever again with their schedules being so busy. Which, of course, led to a major fight, with Santana defending her right to spend her money how she liked, and her right to treat her girlfriend and celebrate a major moment with her, while Rachel defended the merits of saving money and spending more free time together. Which, admittedly, she'd framed in such a way that had basically pressured Santana to stop DJing at night altogether and potentially put her career on hold, just after she herself had pressed forward in her career. And truly, Santana was on the rise at the time, getting called to DJ some popular clubs in Manhattan, as well as doing some production work for some local rappers and bands. It had been a bit of a slap in the face, looking back, but hindsight was twenty-twenty.

Needless to say, the night hadn't ended very well, despite the dinner being remarkably lovely and sweet. Santana had exiled herself to the couch until that Christmas Eve, where they'd managed to make up, work out a solution that optimized both of their schedules, and compromise. Santana would DJ half the shows she normally did for the next few months in order to focus on more in-house production, leaving her home more often at night, and would prep dinner more often so that when Rachel got home, they'd be able to spend more time together immediately. Rachel would quit her extra-curricular dance classes and drop one of her vocal practices every weekend, as well as discuss with the producers if scheduling could be shifted some days during the prep work and ramp up to opening night, giving her more free time to relax and spend with Santana. It had still been difficult, both butting heads in spots over silly things like dish duty or accidentally rearranging skincare items in the bathroom cabinet, but they found their way through that difficult Winter and Spring, feeling more like a team than ever.

Rachel dared a peek at the note, not really sure how she'd take a candid take on the night.

_I'd like to think of this night as one of the hardest ones in my life. I had so much planned for your birthday and the holidays that year, but when you got the part for that play, I freaked. I was so, so proud of you and ecstatic that you got your first break, and I wanted…needed to show you I understood that. So I worked around the clock, using all my connections, calling in all my favours to get us a table for two at that restaurant. We both know I had savings to dip into, but we'd agreed that I would keep it as a security bubble, so I'd used my bonus earnings from DJing that I'd planned for a Christmas gift to give you a birthday to remember. A big, romantic night with the woman I loved, on her birthday, showing her how much I cherished her, how happy I was for her. I guess I should have just stuck to small-grade shit, with how that all turned out, huh?_

_In the end though, it helped me realize we were healthy enough, but we didn't talk about enough things. We didn't think with each other in mind enough when it came down to the dirty shit, and I think all those crazy hellish months really battle-tested us going forward. That was our third Christmas here in NYC and in my opinion, the first time where I legit worried that we'd break up. I wasn't sure I really wanted you to find this, so I hid it under the pillow, because in a way, it's kinda how I felt back then. I was so confused and scared of where we were going, scared I messed things up, scared that if I went back into the bedroom and went to hold you, you'd turn me away, and I just wasn't ready, emotionally, to deal with that. I spent a lot of time thinking out there in the living room, and it kind of helped me get to where I could work with you to get us back on track and prioritize. Still, you scared the hell out of me that night. I have to thank you for that, and I know we'll have more fights in the future, but I know we'll get through them. We're a team, I've got your back, you've got mine. And I love you more than I ever have, so there's that, too._

Rachel wiped the tears from her cheeks, recalling those lonely nights alone in their bed, just waiting, wishing Santana would come in and hold her and tell her everything was okay. It had scared her, the sudden distance her girlfriend had erected between them after their fight had peaked, and each morning she woke without Santana's arms around her, she expected to walk into the living room and find her gone. Out of her life. It had been something of a dramatic sort of perspective, but despite her very real and logical concerns over their schedules, she legitimately thought she'd broken her girlfriend's heart by basically rejecting her show of affection, her birthday gift, her overeager and enthusiastic support. Santana had been over the moon for her, and she let herself overlook that over a money matter. At that point in their lives, Santana couldn't erect any sort of mask around her, and it had been brutally clear that the taller woman had been furious, hurt, and terribly sad while they fought. To know now that she had been just as terrified as Rachel was only made her feel more for her lover, her body yearning for a hug just from reading a few lines of heartfelt words.

Not spotting anything else, she went to the washroom to fix her makeup and blow her nose, needing a minute to compose herself. It was strange that she'd been wandering around the apartment alone for a little over ten minutes, too; surely, if Santana was out fetching groceries, she would have been back. It was peculiar, but she tried not to focus on it, instead taking the time to reapply her mascara and clean up her cheeks.

As she worked a touch of blush back on her face, she spotted an ornament sitting on the floor by the tub, right in front of where Rachel kept her relaxing bath stuff. For a moment, she wondered if she had it in her to really test fate again, but if her girlfriend had put effort into it, she'd appreciate it like the rest she'd discovered, surely.

Tucked beside a bottle of bubble bath were a small card and a little ornament of two angels holding hands. Now, Rachel could recall a vast number of delightful memories in that bathroom, but given that the events Santana had brought up were seemingly within the holiday season range, her memory was straining to recall something major. A little perplexed, she opened the card, smiling curiously at the picture from last Christmas with her and Santana curled up on the couch together, while Quinn was nearby holding a large throw pillow, gleefully ready to strike the unsuspecting couple. _Lucas must have taken that…_ she mused, recalling the wonderful night they had spent with Quinn and her boyfriend. Her eyes left the photo and saw a long, compressed, Rachel berry-level message, with three whole paragraphs. It was impressive, given Santana's hatred of appearing like she's rambling on and on.

_Last year, do you remember when I asked you and Lucas to go grab some stuff from the grocery store? You told me we already had most of what was on the list, but I told you I wanted more gummi bears, and you, being the best person in existence, went out and heroically obtained them for me. I really loved you for that, because while you were gone, I kind of had to keep Q from melting down in here. See, she'd been with Lucas for two and a half years, and they were really happy, but she was scared, terrified of having another man there to validate her. Basically, she was scared that she was falling into the same trap as she had with Finn, and that she just couldn't see it as easily because it was New Haven, not Lima. And you know me, I'm not good with words, but I knew I'd asked myself enough questions about you through the years, and it served me pretty well in keeping my head on straight. And maybe I got some from a country song I heard one day. Don't start. I could be across the galaxy and still hear that cute little amused snort of yours. I'll hunt you down and tickle you._

_Anyway, questions. Like, if all the romance was stripped away, could they be friends? Best friends like we are? And if something happened to him, would she support him indefinitely, as long as it took? Because I guarantee, any trial you go through, I'll be at your side. There is nothing in this world that could stop me from supporting you through anything…we're a team. We weather every storm together. And everyone has something of a checklist, a basic framework of the kind of person they could love easily. Maybe not everyone knows what's on theirs entirely, or even all that well, but did she know enough to know that he could be someone she feels she could love and grow old together with? Was there a chance? Because if there was, that was worth something. Did she feel like their relationship was building into something stronger? Trust, love, goals? Was he keeping her from her dreams, because everyone has to have their own goals on top of goals with their partner, even if they share them with the one they love, and they both support each other with them. She needed to feel free, on one hand, but at the same time, did she feel at home with him? Was she going home after school every day to her apartment, or was she going home after school because there was a bunch of ways there for her to get in contact with him, there were memories of them there, because HE felt like home? Because you're always home in my eyes, Rachel. If you asked me to uproot to Bullshit Nowhere, Nebraska, I'd go, because you mean so much more to me than anything else in this world, and I love you so much more than I love this apartment._

_In the end, she was pretty relieved, and after a good cry and some clutch makeup work, we got out of here just in time. Twenty minutes later, she was beating me in the head with a pillow, because apparently that was my reward for being a kickass friend. Whatev. It was nice to get all that off my chest at the time, and even though you weren't physically there with me, you were in my heart and in my mind, so I wanted to share that with you. If I know you, this will be the second last one of these things. I know I said two sleeps left, but I need you to check something out in the bedroom for me for a sec. I know you've had a long day, I promise we can relax soon. Love you._

Rachel let herself just sit there and let out all of the feels running through her. What had started as an odd, cheeky little series of messages had turned into a juggernaut of really sweet, romantic words, and she knew that if she started crying seriously now, she'd have a hard time stopping. And ultimately, Santana needed Rachel to read one more for her. It was a draining trip down memory lane, but it was equally wonderful, and she needed to see it through.

Her makeup was flat out ruined, so she just wiped her face off again, grabbed some Kleenex, and then headed out, not bothering to reapply anything. The door to their room was oddly closed, so she slowly creaked it open, taking a quick glance inside to find that the wonderful little apple pie-scented candle in her fake gas-light candle holder was lit, illuminating the room enough for her to navigate to an interesting package on the bed.

There was a distinct lack of Santana Lopez in the room, and there also wasn't an ornament. Instead, there was another white card resting atop her old, folded white scarf, the gold glittery stars partially flaked off. It was still her favourite scarf, the one she wore most in the winter months, and Rachel was pretty sure that she'd end up wearing it until it literally fell apart. As she sat down on the side of the bed, she took hold of it, marveling at how soft it still managed to be after so many times it had been washed.

Deciding not to waste any time, she took hold of the card, opening it to find it lacking a picture, which was odd. Instead, there was just a simple note.

_I gave you this for your birthday that first year. It's strange, but over the years, I don't think I ever openly acknowledged that I had, even if it was pretty obvious. And hell, when I first set my eyes on it, I just knew it was meant for you._

_Anyway, this scarf was my first gift to you. I'm not exactly sure what your first gift to me was, having rejected so many of them before I just got tired of being a bitch. But I think, if I simplified it enough, it'd be fair to say that your first gift to me was an honest chance. That day, I finally decided to receive it._

_And from that honest chance came the last few years, along with so many memories that I'll cherish forever. And hopefully many, many more._

It was a simple note, but it really was a wonderful pre-fifth anniversary celebration, and once more, she had to wipe fresh tears from her eyes. Santana was usually the crier out of the two of them, but she seemed to be having a pretty solid night in that category. There was just so much love packed into the past five years, and being reminded of even just a small fraction of it was a little overwhelming.

"You know, it's five years to the day that I was dropped off at your parents' place." She heard Santana speak, her girlfriend leaving the ensuite, a room that she had failed to spot check, too emotionally worked up to pay close enough attention to detail for that. Still, she couldn't be annoyed, not with Santana looking at her with such love, and especially with Santana wearing a rather lovely dress that she'd never seen her in before. Even in the dim candlelight, her girlfriend's beauty was clear as day. "I once told you that I thought it'd be hell staying with you three. I thought I'd just hide away upstairs, be a hermit, mope about my shit luck, and wait it all out. But it was your birthday, and there I was, upstairs, and you hadn't asked me to join in. And I guess I decided I'd take you up on your offer, see what was the worst that could happen…better late than never, right? And it turned out pretty great."

Santana moved away from the doorway and walked further into the room, lighting a second candle on their dresser. "And as the days passed, I got tired of being lonely, and you kept forcing us together, so I gave in. And that was pretty awesome, oddly enough. You made things really easy, it was really hard to keep from digging myself in with you three and just not caring about the consequences. And then Christmas was like a dream, and I finally let myself acknowledge everything I was feeling about you, and once I let you in, and you let me in…everything changed for the better." Santana spoke, as if she were using some hidden prompter somewhere from how confident and fluid she was with her words. Normally when the girl spoke about heartfelt things, her words would get jumbled, she'd get frustrated, take moments to pause mid-sentence. It was part of her character, talking about such things just wasn't easy for her, not like expressing it physically. Yet, for the first time in a very long time, she was entirely smooth in her speech, and it was riveting.

"In the past five years, I've had more happy memories than in all the other years combined. It's a little crazy, but I just realized that a while ago. And now we're going to be spending our fifth Christmas here, our fifth anniversary, our sixth Christmas together, and we'll be making more memories, all because you and your family gave me a chance, Rachel." Santana continued, turning to face her, slowly stepping achingly closer to her, yet just far enough to be out of arm's reach. "You three not only gave me the chance to have a happy, joyful holiday for once, but you…Rachel…you gave me the chance to finally see a girl so full of love and so unbelievably amazing and pure. And I can't help but want to have a chance to cherish the woman that girl has become, to love her with everything I have, to be able to greet her with a smile every morning and to send her off with a kiss every night. You're the love of my life, and I can't help but wish for a chance to not only make more amazing memories with you as a family, but to maybe one day be able to share those memories with weird, tiny little doppelgangers of us at our sides. Once upon a time, I used to wish for a Christmas miracle, that I'd wake up Christmas Day to my family. And over the years, that wish stuck around, even if some of the cast has changed in my dreams at night."

Rachel's breath caught in her throat as Santana knelt before her, the girl briefly biting her lip anxiously before looking up at her with an adoring, hopeful smile. That same smile that had spoken so much of what she'd read and heard all evening from her girlfriend over the past few years. "Rachel Barbra Berry, will you make me the happiest, luckiest woman on Earth and marry me?"

There were very few times when Rachel could have counted herself entirely speechless, yet that was one of them. She'd expected some fifth anniversary-related thing, but nothing like a marriage proposal. Just the sheer shock had her reeling for a good second before she was at least able to stick her hand out, wide-eyed and smiling like a lunatic, probably. Which was okay, Santana loved her crazy side.

She watched with precision as Santana slowly slid the ring onto her finger, the girl's hand taking Rachel's as she got to her feet. Rachel immediately latched onto her future wife, having a nice quality cry of happy tears as Santana held her, a smile evident in both the placement of her fiancée's arms and the happy sigh the taller girl emanated.

"I do, I do, I do! I love you so much, I…I'm yours, San! We're getting married!" She mumbled cheerfully into Santana's neck, happily swaying back and forth a little before breaking free once she felt she was all cried out. Even if Santana seemingly wasn't. But that was okay, because she knew they were happy tears, and Santana was much less annoyed with herself over those. _Santana's going to be my wife! And we're getting married and I can't wait to tell my dads! And Kurt and Quinn! And We're getting married!_

"So are you gonna kiss me, or do you need to do your little dance first?" Santana asked, giving a watery laugh at the sheer predictability of it all, Rachel imagined. Because honestly, if she were to start kissing her fiancée, she doubted she'd stop until morning. And her good luck celebration dance simply couldn't wait that long.

"Gosh, I love you. Can I dance before we kiss? I plan on ravaging you thoroughly, but I really have to do that so that we can make love, have some dinner, and still get enough sleep, because tomorrow I just want to lay down on the couch with you and think up some wedding locations…oooh, and baby names! And maybe make love a few more times, maybe surprise you with something? And…" Rachel started off at a mile a minute, only silenced by a lingering kiss on her cheek and a two handed grope of her ass that really had her fires burning. And all plans about planning pushed off to the far reaches of her mind.

"I'm giving you exactly two minutes and fifty six seconds, love." Santana whispered against her tingling skin, stepping away to start unzipping her dress. With every motion she made in her silly celebration dance, her eyes never left her future wife, the woman performing a slow striptease, removing each article of clothing with painful sensuality. It was all she could do to keep her focus for the full duration, practically tear off her skirt and blouse, and tackle her girl onto the bed.

Oh yes, all wanky statements about 'getting lucky' aside, she'd never been happier, committing her life alongside her best friend, her lover, her partner, her forever. Now, her family. But Christmas came early that year, and Rachel wasn't about to let Santana leave that bed until she knew that her Christmas miracle would come true, starting tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> Well, there you have it! I hope you enjoyed this little epilogue trip down memory lane for both Rachel and Santana :) This story was a lot of fun to write, and I'm thrilled that I was able to bring some holiday happiness to you all!
> 
> Oh and the song Rachel sings in the flashback is Sheriff's "When I'm With You", an 80's classic that I can't help but wish would be tackled by Lea Michele, but alas, it is incredibly unlikely. So I'll just have to imagine it.


End file.
